All I have
by subseeker
Summary: I love him. Plain and simple. Not just as my friend... my best buddy. No. I love him, like in: I'm in love with him. And i can't have him. I know that. Still I try to be as close to him as I can be. Call me a masochist, but I rather have him around and suffer than not having him at all... Rating may change to T in later chaps. Slash. Centon. You know you love it ;-)
1. One of those days

Watch him. That's all I can do. Just watch him.

We talk, hang out. And I watch him. We work together. And I watch him. Sometimes I feel like a stalker, because I follow him around whenever I get the chance to. I try to be as close to him as I can get. I guess he notices my looks and surely notices that I seek his company. He never said a word about it, so I guess he doesn't mind.

And sometimes I steal little touches. A pat on the back here, a brush of arms there. I lean on his shoulders when he sits on a chair... Just like friend do.

Only when we're in the ring together I manage to keep my feelings under control because I know I need to stay focused, no matter what. I know that if I don't, I risk hurting him and I couldn't stand the thought that I'm the reason for his pain.

Sometimes there are days when everything comes crashing down on me, when I feel like I can't bear this situation anymore. And these are the days when he seems to just feel my misery.

He would come to me and ask me if something is wrong and he would call his wife to tell her that he stays at my place over night. And I know that she hates it when he does that, spending so much time with me and not with her. But he would tell her that he right now doesn't care what she says. It makes me feel special when he does that and at least for a short while I feel like I'm closer to him than his wife is.

Today is one of those days.

I already felt bad when I came to work, but I tried my best to keep my smile in place. It worked for a while, but then I saw him. Randy walked in, a stunning picture of handsomeness and cat-like grace, a smart smile on his gorgeous face that grew when his gaze fell on me. And then his smile died on his beautiful lips. He knows me all too well and it had taken him less than a heartbeat to see that something wasn't right.

He walked up to me, worry written all over his face and he watched me for a moment of two, before he took hold of my arm and steered me to the stairwell.

I tried to find some reason for my mood, so he wouldn't try to dig too deep, but I failed and found myself in the empty and somewhat dark stairwell, back against the wall. His hands rested on my shoulders, his grey eyes scrutinizing me.

"One of those days?" he asked me, voice gentle, caring and all I could do was nod.

To my surprise he didn't ask any further questions. Instead he let his hands slide down my arms slowly and then took out his cell to call his wife. Randy told her that he would stay at my place, like so often before. I heard her sharp voice through the phone and he held the cell away from his ear.

"Sorry, could you please go back in and wait a second? I'm right after you," he said and I nodded, leaving the stairwell.

With a loud thud the door closed behind me, but I still could hear him. His voice was strained and angry and obviously he was pretty pissed. I couldn't understand what he said, but it sure wasn't nice.

He kept word and a moment later he stood beside me.

"I need to drop by at home and get some things before we go to your place, okay?" he told me and I noticed, that suddenly there was no anger left in his voice.

"Sure," I agreed. "You two had a fight, because of me."

It wasn't a question. Randy shook his head.

"No. Not because of you. She is…" Randy trailed off. "Never mind. It's not important. She's not important. Right now only _you_ are important, okay?"

His last words went straight to my poor heart and warmed me. I wanted to say something, but all I could do was to stare at him.

"You look like a kicked puppy," Randy laughed softly.

He ruffled my hair and as we walked towards our co-workers, he put his arm around me.

"Hey, tomorrow everything is going to be alright. Promise," he tried to cheer me up. "Let's get back to work."

He was so close that I could feel the low rumble of his voice and I wanted to believe that he could and _would_ make everything alright, for good. Somehow.

I guess the only thing one could criticize when it comes to Randy Orton is that he tends to have foul-mood and that he is a spoiled brat. And the spoiled brat is a result of him being spoiled by: his parents 60%, Sam 20 % and myself 30 %, so no point in blaming him for that. And yes, that makes 110 %, but when it comes to acting spoiled, he _gives_ a 110 %.

Contrary to the persona he plays on TV, Randy is a warm-hearted, caring and by far not insane person and if you ever saw him play tea-time with his little girl, sitting on a kids chair with his knees up to his ears and a petite tea-cup in his hand – a sight to remember, believe me – you wouldn't believe that he could even harm a fly. And when it comes to persons he's attached to, he can be extremely protective.

He even tries to protect _me_, in many ways. If I don't feel well, he blocks off everyone and everything until I feel better. And few weeks ago for example some random idiot guy came along for a fight when we were out for a beer. I tried to avoid him and to stay calm, but after the guy had pushed me around a few times, Randy stepped between us and told him that he would break every single bone in his body if he touched me _one more time_. No need to see Randy's face that moment, I heard his voice drip with venom. That did it, the guy took off. I mean, hey, as if I am someone who needed to be protected. He knows that and he does it nevertheless. And I secretly love him for doing it.

So being in full personal watch-dog mode, he managed to keep stupid questions and dump jokes away from me, called me away from every unwanted conversation and thus got me through the day as good as possible.

After the training, we took a quick shower, grabbed our stuff and hit the road. The ride to Randy's place was quiet, he seemed to be lost in his thoughts and I didn't want to bother him. The telephone call with Sam earlier today popped up in my mind and how his voice had sounded through the closed door. Not nice. Not Randy.

When we finally arrived at his house, he asked me to stay in the car and then made his way to the front door. I could see Sam at the window, an unreadable expression plastered to her face… until her gaze fell on me. Suddenly her expression wasn't unreadable anymore, it was reproachful, angry, but she left her place at the window the moment Randy closed the door behind him.

For about twenty minutes nothing happened.

Then the door opened and Randy came out, a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder… and he looked really pissed. A few steps behind Sam followed. She stopped at the curb, screaming his name, but he ignored her stealthily, making a beeline to the car. He threw the bag onto the backseat and climbed behind the steering wheel. Her sharp voice was cut off by the closing car door.

Randy sat very still, eyes fixed on the road and his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles went white. His breathing was slow but deep, as if he tried to calm down.

"I'm sorry," I whispered guiltily, because I knew it was my fault that they had been fighting.

He blinked once.

"Don't be," he whispered back. "It's not your fault."

Even in this crappy situation he tried to make me feel better. My fingers itched to touch him, to comfort him, but I didn't reach out.

My eyes flicked back to Sam. She still stood at the curb, angry, but silent. I knew this was wrong and not fair to her, but god forgive me, I couldn't have cared less. It was Randy I was sorry for.

"Let's get out of here," he sighed and started the car.

The ride to my place was as quiet as the ride to his house, but somehow… he seemed to be relieved. So we drove in silence and all the way I wondered how I would have to pay for the shit I caused…


	2. Of magic tomato sauce

Hi guys! Thanks for the reviews :-)  
Little me's very happy and honored that you remember me XD

Okay, this chapter is a littel short, but I promise to write fast and post the third one soon! Enjoy!

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When we finally arrived at my place, Randy tossed his bag carelessly on my couch and walked straight into the kitchen. I followed him, stopped in the doorway and folded my arms, leaning against the doorframe. For a while, I watched him search through the kitchen until he grumbled something and turned to face me.

"Really, John?"

I frowned and asked: "Really what?"

He gesticulated around the kitchen, his eyes suddenly all big and almost reproachful.

"No food? You have no food? I'm starving!"

Randy was right, I hadn't been at the grocery the last days and therefore it was nothing to eat around. I pursed my lips and grabbed some flyers from the counter, Italian and Asian food, and threw them at him.

"Italian or Asian. Whatever you like, I don't care," I told him.

Shaking his head no, he crumpled them up and threw the paper-ball into the trash can.

"No meals on wheels, I want something fresh!" he whined and I couldn't help but smile when the spoiled brat came through.

Then he spotted three lonely and hidden tomatoes behind the dried bread and his eyes lit up.

"Tomatoes! Here we go," he whistled through his teeth and grabbed them. "And I saw some pasta..."

He began rummage through the kitchen cabinets and produced pasta I didn't even know I had bought and a few spicery and olive oil. Curious I walked up to his side while he busily began chop the tomatoes.

"Are you really going to cook?" I asked a little alarmed, since cooking and Randy is not exactly compatible in my opinion.

"Yeah."

"Okay, what have I done to deserve this punishment?"

He looked up and kicked me, lacking of free hands to punch me or whatsoever, against my shin. I pouted and kicked him back, halfheartedly.

"What's this actually gonna be? Pasta with tomato sauce?"

Randy nodded, his eyes never leaving his hands… well, I guess he had no interest in losing a finger. Again, Randy and cooking…mmh, nope.

"Kind of. Pasta with cold tomato sauce."

I frowned. Cold? Yummy.

"Well, that sounds… like I'm gonna get me something from the Asia-man."

"No John, you don't."

"Yes Randy, I do."

"Oh no, Cena, you don't."

"Oh yes, I do. You don't really think I'm gonna eat cold tomatoes."

The tomato-massacre finished, he put the remains of those poor vegetables in a bowl, added lots of spices and oil and mixed it to a sauce-wannabe.

Then Randy looked up to me with big puppy eyes – he _knows_ that I can't refuse him anything when he looks at me like that – and whined again: "Come on, you gotta try it. It tastes a little like Bruschetta."

He held the bowl right under my nose and rewarded me with a bright smile when it took a hesitant sniff.

And that very moment it hit me: Since he started with that sauce, our mood had changed, from depressed and pissed to almost normal. The normal bickering and kidding around. It was like a swith being flipped. Back in the car, silence. Here with the tomato sauce, normalcy. I felt a wave of relief flood me and for the first time today I felt almost… good. Wow, a magic tomato sauce…

"Okay, okay, you win! I'm gonna eat that magic bruschetta-like cold tomato sauce," I agreed, holding my hands up in defeat.

"Magic?"

Without any further explanation I smiled at him and patted his shoulder.

"You finish that and I'm getting your stuff to your room."

With that, I left the kitchen, grabbed his bag and made my way to his room. While I climbed the stairs, I pondered I if I could really leave him alone down there, with all the knives, the hot burner and boiling water… there _was_ a chance that _he_ would end up cooked.

I switched the lights on and my eyes swept through the room. It was exactly how he'd left it: tidy, everything in order. Deciding that the sheets needed to be changed, I sat his bag on the chair in the corner and went to work.

Randy had always been and will always be a regular guest in my house, so I decided a while ago that this room – formerly known as my guest room – would be perfect for him, with his own bed and closet and, okay, a shared bathroom, but that had never been a problem – the bathroom is big enough and we've seen each other's naked ass often enough in the past.

To be honest, the room isn't only a sleeping-solution. I have to admit, in a way I used it as a bait on him. My house had always been a place for him to go when he wanted to get away from home and now he not only had a place to go, he had his _own_ place to go, including a spare-key to my house, his own tooth-brush, shaver, towels, clothes, food… well, I guess you get the point.

The evening I gave him the spare-key and told him about his own room, he didn't say anything and just hugged me tightly.

It feels good to know that there's someone around. That he's around.

I threw the blanket on the bed and opened the closet to put the bedspread in, when my eyes fell on something very familiar. A baseball cap. My baseball cap. An old one, but definitely one of mine. I put the bedspread away and let my fingers brush over the fabric. It felt rough and worn and I tried to remember when I had given him that cap. In fact I couldn't recall that I had _ever_ given him one of my caps… still it sat there, on its own shelf. I felt a warm feeling tug at my heart.

_Funny that I never noticed it in there before…_

Randy's voice startled me out of my thoughts.

"Oh Darling, get your ass down here and set the table! Pasta's gonna be ready in five!"

"Right there!" I called back, giving the cap one last tender brush before I headed down.


	3. Drink and talk

Hah, I managed to post 2 chaps this week! Am I a good girl or am I a good girl? ;-)

Thanks for your reviews and: I love you guys! Hope you'll enjoy this chap as well as the other 2 :D

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To my sincere surprise his odd magic tomato sauce tasted really good. My approving sounds made Randy grin like a Cheshire cat and I wondered if he had cooked for someone else before. Well, probably for Sam, but he seemed to be genuinely happy that I liked it, almost like it was the first time someone liked his cooking. He looked… cute.

We ate in silence, except for my occasional "Mmh!"-grunts, until he leaned back and gave me a frown.

"Okay, so why magic?" he asked casually.

I gesticulated between the two of us.

"I've had a bad day, you've had a bad day, until we came here. Then you started with that sauce and TATA, our mood changed from bad to good. So, it must be a magic sauce. It's as simple as that," I explained, grinning.

He gave me a funny look.

"Ooh, I think I have to cook more often, if my food does magic?" he chirped happily.

"Heaven forbid, no!" I exclaimed and focused back on my food.

A second later I felt something sticky on the side of my face. A spaghetti. That brat had thrown a spaghetti at me. I looked up at him, pursing my lips, but he only sat there, eyes on his plate and a smug smile plastered to his face.

Okay, if he could do smug, I could do, too. Therefore I let the spaghetti be where it was and continued to eat. He didn't say anything about it, me neither and the only sign that he was amused was that every once in a while the corners of his mouth twitched. And let me tell you that, it wasn't easy for me to stay serious. That piece of pasta stayed perfectly fine on its place during the whole dinner. After finishing dinner, I started to carry the dishes into the kitchen, put the stuff into the dishwasher… the spaghetti still stayed where it was.

When I turned to go back to Randy, he suddenly stood right behind me and I almost ran into him. I hadn't heard him follow me. Talk about catlike moves. He stared at me and arched an eyebrow.

In response, I folded my arms and asked: "What?"

"You're looking pretty silly, you know?" he answered and had obviously a hard time not to laugh.

I arched an eyebrow myself and had to bite my tongue, trying to prevent the laughter that crawled up my throat.

"Well, duh, Orton."

"But you have to admit that I'm good at aiming, Cena."

Well, he had a point there, he'd managed to put that sticky little thing from the corner of my eye, right over my cheek to the corner of my jaw in a straight line. I nodded approving.

"Yeah. Yeah, you are."

"You should peel that off before it sticks to your face permanently," he remarked, pointing at the spaghetti.

"Nah," I shook my head no, "it was a present from you and I don't throw presents away, you know?"

That did it, he turned away and began to chuckle, trying unsuccessfully to cover it with a cough.

"Hah! I won!" I crowed over my triumph in our little who-loughs-first-competition.

When he finally stopped chuckling and coughing and turned back to me, I greeted him with a bright smile and he smirked back, shaking his head.

"John, John, you're not only looking silly, you _are_ silly…"

"No news, Randal."

Randy's eyes locked with mine and for a moment we just stood there, looking at each other. Then his smile vanished a little and he reached out, hesitantly.

"Let me get that off," he whispered and his fingertips touched my cheek, pausing there for a few heartbeats.

I felt a warm tingle where his fingers lay and it cost me all my self-control not to close my eyes and lean into his touch. His eyes… some strange expression shone in them and for a second I hoped that he…

Then I felt him peel the spaghetti off. He threw it into the sink.

"John…" he started and I noticed how hoarse his voice suddenly sounded, "promise me that you never try to change who you are."

His request took me aback, because I wouldn't have expected something like that and I wondered what was going on. But I nodded.

"I not planning on doing so," I answered slowly. "Why?"

"Just… promise me, okay?"

"Okay, I promise. Randy, I'm a little worried here. Care to tell me what's wrong?"

He waved aside and tried to bring back a smile on his face, but it wasn't a convincing one.

"I… I don't know. I guess… too much stress. Too many things that have changed. You are the only constant in my life and I don't want to lose you."

If I've ever been speechless, then it was in that very moment. I felt a wave of warmth run through me and at the same time a shiver ran down my spine. I opened my mouth to say something, though I honestly didn't know _what_ to say, when he saved me from not knowing what to do.

"I could do with a beer," Randy grinned, obviously embarrassed, and went to the fridge to fetch some.

When he turned back to, I took a step towards him and hugged him tightly. I took him by surprise I guess, because he froze for a second, before returning the hug.

"Thanks," he whispered right beside my ear and his breath against my skin gave me goose bumps.

"Anytime," I whispered back.

When we l let him go, I stole one of the beers in his hands and grabbed a bottle of Whiskey in addition on my way to the living room. I heard him follow me. This evening was different from all evenings before. Something was going on and I was curious what this evening held in store for us…

The evening went smooth, we talked, drank, talked, drank… and his mere company did wonders on me. He simply made me feel better and to me it seemed that at least for now he forgot about the trouble at home. He smiled, laughed, bickered and joked around carefree. His tension loosened and within a short time he looked ten years younger. He told me about his last trip to the zoo with Alanna and while I watched him, I couldn't help but smile. Complete happiness shone in his eyes, like always when he talked about his little girl. Randy Orton, the perfect daddy.

My thoughts drifted to Sam. I imagined how she sat at home, angry, alone. Again, it wasn't fair to her that her husband left her to come here but, call me an egoist, I was incredibly glad and relieved that the day had ended this way. And somehow it was her fault, too. There had to be a reason why Randy tried to get away from home, no matter what.

I love him with all my heart and believe me, I would do anything, _really anything_ if it meant to keep him safe and happy. I would even give my life for him. As cheesy as it sounds… it's a fact. That's why I always wished him the perfect family and it was heartbreaking to see that his family obviously breaks apart.

Now, my life hadn't been easy as well in the last few months, but in a different way and at least I have him close to me. Call me a masochist, but I rather have him around and suffer than not having him at all.

His report about his zoo trip with Alanna ended and he fell silent, staring at the beer in his hand. He'd always been there for me when I felt bad and although he now smiled, I knew he was hurting inside.

"Wanna talk about Sam?" I asked quietly.

Randy's head shot up and the smile vanished.

"John, I don't want to burden you with that shit."

"Hey, that's what friends are for," I tried to encourage him to tell me his problems.

He nodded slowly.

"I don't know where to start. Lately I can't do anything right for her. She blames me for everything. And she obviously thinks that I'm cheating on her, because I caught her searching through my stuff."

His voice was heavily laced with sadness and sounded drained, tired and my whole body itched to just hold and comfort him.

"Her jealousy is suffocating. She hates it when I spend time with you. She wants me to work less. Hell, she even was jealous when I went to the zoo with Alanna for the third time in a week instead of going out with her for shopping. I mean, jealous of her own daughter? I don't get her. I guess… we just driftet apart over the past months."

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. His tension was back and I felt a knot built up in my stomach.

"Probably you should go for a holiday with her and leave Alanna with her grandparents?" I suggested. "Time to make things good, you know?"

He shook his head no.

"Just the two of us and no distraction? No, we would kill each other…"

"We could spend less time together if it helps…"

"No, John, no. That's not an option. I don't want that... I guess sometimes it's too late to repair the damage…"

My thoughts suddenly jumped to his duffel bag upstairs. It was now that I noticed that it was too jam-packed for only one night out. Why would he stay out more than one night, he had never done that before… Could that mean that he had already broken up with her?

"You can't give her up, Randy. You married her because you loved her, you have a daughter…"

"I know all that, John. That's why I told her that I need a few days off when I got my stuff."

That would explain the jam-packed bag and somehow I was relieved.

"So you're gonna stay a few days?" I asked.

"No, I'm going to stay at a hotel. I need time to think, alone."

And with that my relief was washed away. Time, alone, to think seldom produced _good_ things which meant it _could be bad for me_, too, even if he'd said otherwise a few minutes ago.

Again it was as if he could read my thoughts and he said: "Don't worry, John. I'm not going to break up our friendship. Promise."

Then he laughed bitterly.

"You should be happy to be a bachelor, John. Less problems."

Well, that wasn't quite true, I had my problems but I couldn't tell him, right?

I decided to go with the flow and just answered: "There were girls, but it simply didn't work out."

His eyes were back at his beer and a deep frown appeared on his face.

"I never understood why none of those girls ever claimed you on the spot. They must have been blind," he stated and his voice was so damn tender, that I didn't even think about the next thing I did.

"Then why don't _you_ do it?" I replied, my voice just above a whisper and realized too late that I had said it aloud and that he'd heard it, because he nodded barely noticeable.

Frozen like a deer in the headlight I dared not to breathe, waiting for Randy's reaction.

Randy only looked up and answered as quietly: "I already did."

Speechless I tried to catch up with the situation, wondering how Randy had meant it. And I could read in Randy's eyes that he _knew_ what I was thinking. A small and sad smile appeared on my friends handsome face and he got up and left the room, leaving me without an answer to my unspoken question.

I sat unmoving, trying to think straight. I failed, miserably. This was so damn _not_ good…


	4. Stray cat

Hi guys! Yeah, I know, this was overdue 3

Thanks for all your reviews and faves! You make my day!

Hope you'll enjoy this part as well ;-)

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My heart rate spiked. He would ask me question, he had to. How could he not? Oh good god…

_Think, John, think, think, damn fucking hell think! You just told him to claim you! He's not gonna let you live this down!_

Pressing the heel of my hand against my forehead I closed my eyes, trying to calm down. My heart pounded heavily against my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I could simply go to my room and lock myself up in there, but I would have to come out eventually and answer his questions later anyway. I could try to tell him that it had been a joke but seriously, the way my voice had sounded that moment… _I_ wouldn't believe it to be a joke.

This had been the most foolish confession ever made in human history… at least I felt like it was. And there was nothing I could tell him to make it something else…

Something cold bumped against my shoulder, making me jump. Randy was back, holding another beer in my direction. I swallowed hard and took it, noticing that he didn't look at me.

That changed when he sat back down on his place on the other couch. Now he _did_ look at me and I couldn't help but answer his stare… His eyes lingered on me in thoughtful silence and I wouldn't have been surprised if he saw right into my soul. Trying to hold his gaze I did my best not to squirm and keep my pounding heart from crawling up my throat.

And then a small realization knocked on my panic-fueled mind. Something like, stop the panic, you're not the only one who gave something away.

_I already did._

Where had that come from? What the hell could he have meant?

_Well, let's grasp at straws - this is a stand-off._

That's what I told myself, a poor attempt to get back some of my composure…

"Randy, I… god, I don't know how to start… to explain," I tried, willing the words to pass my lips. "I'm so sorry…"

"John, it's okay. I knew you'd be pissed off by my behavior sooner or later."

Pissed off? I? Why would I… What?

"What…" I started but had to clear my throat. "…exactly are we talking about?"

"Friendship," he replied after another short moment of what I would almost call… hesitation?

"Friendship," I parroted dumbfounded and Randy nodded.

My whirling thoughts finally came to a halt. Wait. Friendship? Could it be that he hadn't caught the meaning of my words? Was there a chance that Randy honestly thought it was all about friendship? Could an intelligent man like him really be that dense? Or was there more behind his answer? Was he hiding something?

I found myself at a crossroad: Go this way and reveal your feelings to him with all the consequences there might come, good or bad, or got that way and follow the path of friendship like nothing ever happened and leave the truth behind.

It's better to get unpleasant things over and done with they say…

It was tempting to just tell him everything and end my misery somehow or other. On the other hand… I swore to myself to do everything to keep him close to me and no need to give it a shot, the truth would drive him away.

"Sometimes I feel guilty, you know?"

I snapped out of my thoughts by that.

"Guilty?" I parroted - again - sounding pretty featherbrained to my own ears.

Great, why was it that this man regularly managed to reduce me to one-word-sentences? And what the hell…? A minute ago everything seemed like, okay that was it and now… And why _the hell_ would _he_ feel guilty?

"Yeah. I don't know how often I worried about how one-sided our friendship is…"

"One-sided?" I asked puzzled. "What do you mean, one-sided? I, uh, can't quite follow you here…"

Claim, friendship, guilty, one-sided… I really had no idea where the hell he was getting at. Was this his way to tell me that I ask too much? But no, that wouldn't make any sense. He said that _he_ felt guilty.

"Since the day we first met I claimed you. Your attention, your time, your friendship, your…" He sighed heavily. "I claimed your whole life. And that's not fair. There wasn't a single time that you didn't say yes when I asked to hang out. You gave me my own room in your house. And when was the last time you had a date?"

"I don't know," I replied perplexed. "And I don't care. I mean, I was the one who engrossed you."

This conversation was heading in a direction I wouldn't have expected after my big mouthed revelation. This was good. Well, okay, not exactly good since Randy really seemed to feel guilty for a reason I couldn't quite understand. But good because I… got away with it. I felt a relieved laughter get stuck in my throat and tried to swallow it. This wasn't the time to laugh…

"You were the one who was there every time I felt like shit, okay? Every. Single. Time. _This,"_ I gestured between him and me, _"_is _not_ one-sided, Randy. Don't think that, not even a second."

And then, for a brief moment, it was back, that soul-searching expression in his eyes. It vanished as fast as it came. Leaning back, Randy closed his eyes and took a good sip from his beer. A low groan escaped his lips.

"Randy?"

"Didn't know I could be so pathetic…" he sighed, set his beer aside and rose from the couch. "I'm tired. Gonna hit the hay."

I frowned. Suddenly so tired? Yeah sure.

"Do I see you tomorrow before you go?" I asked quietly.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe. If not, I'll call you when I've… come to terms."

With that he made his way to his room. I knew that very second that Randy would be away before I would wake up…

"Night!" I called after him.

And here I sat in my living-room, alone. Alone with my relief, alone with my worries. Alone with the aftermath of this crazy and strange evening.

_Then why don't you do it?_

A maximum of idiocy in one sentence. And Randy's answer and his explanation that he was talking about friendship. That didn't fit. It felt like he meant something different but tried to keep up appearances. Which in turn raised the question if he really felt like he was the demanding part in our friendship. At least at this part he'd looked to me like that thought honestly bothered him.

Anyway, my revelation, his reaction and the following conversation simply didn't fit. And I guess Randy thought the same, that's why he was suddenly so 'tired'. But to find out the truth behind this evening meant to _tell_ the truth first. Wait, let me think about it… Uhm, no.

Humming I sat back, got comfy and decided to end the evening with my beer and the whisky that sat yet untouched beside me…

Randy had been away when I woke up the next day. Just as expected. I probably should have been happy after the tension my idiocy bestowed me the night before. But I hadn't been. Crap. I was so damn screwed when it came to this man…

A note pinned to my fridge told me, that he had no idea how long it would take him to think things over and that he promised to call me.

That was three days ago and every time I passed the note on my way through the kitchen it made me frown. He had called in sick at work. He didn't call _me_. And for a brief moment I even considered to ask Sam if she knew something.

But I didn't. I don't have a death wish, you know?

I was sure he would decide to go back to her, so it would be only a matter of time until the news would reach me. Preferably delivered through Randy, who would already be back at home that very moment.

So I passed the time working, doing sports and to pace up and down in my house…

It was 2 a.m. when I woke up with a start. Sitting bolt upright in my bed, I blinked into the darkness of my room, trying to focus my still drowsy mind. It took me a couple of seconds until I realized what had disturbed my peaceful and well-deserved sleep. The phone rang insistently. My eyes fell on the alarm-clock on the bed stand and I frowned. This wasn't a time of the day to do phone-calls, except something had happened?

_What the hell…?_

I crawled out of the bed and padded - making my way more of a zigzag than a straight line due to being still more asleep than awake - to the phone.

"Yeah, Cena…," I mumbled, leaning heavily against the wall for support.

A blink later I held the phone on arm's length away, my ear ringing from the sudden loud, high-pitched and pretty much hysterical voice on the other end of the line. From being all dozy to wide awake in a split second like that can't be healthy, but I was. _Wide_ awake.

And while I stared at my still screaming cell, my brain shifted down a gear and then hit the gas…

"Sam?!" I shouted, still holding the cell away.

No need to go _beyond_ wide awake here…

What followed was a tirade of the most creative names I've ever had been called in my life. She ranted, screamed and I had a hard time to understand her. In fact I didn't understand most of the things she hurled at me through the phone, because she was loud and she spoke fast and slurred.

After two minutes of listening to her rant, I tried to cut into her speech.

"Sam… Sam...! SAM! Will you shut the fuck UP?!" I roared into the cell.

Success. She actually stopped her tirade.

"What THE FUCK is your problem?!"

"My problem? YOU wanna know what MY FUCKING PROBLEM IS?" she spit. "YOU are my fucking problem! Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted? YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!"

She was back at screaming. And I had no idea what was going on.

"Whoa, wait! Could you please enlighten me? I have no idea what the hell you're talking about, Sam!"

"You fucking know what I'm talking about! What gives you the right to steal away my husband?! You destroyed my family, you monster!"

I wanted to reply something, anything, but my mouth snapped shut at its own accord. Stole away her husband? Destroyed her family?

"Sam, I… I had no idea…"

"Liar! You're a fucking liar! He left hours ago and don't tell me he's not at your place!"

And then she started a new tirade that made me hold the cell away from my ear again. I stared at my cell, very much irritated, before I simply hung up on her.

_Hours ago? Why doesn't he call me?_ I thought, shocked.

My eyes slipped back to my cell. No short message. No missed call. Slowly I walked over to the couch, sitting down only to get up a second later.

Randy had left Sam? Why would he do that? Why would he leave his family? He loved his family. His little girl.

Why hadn't he called me if he left hours ago? A bad feeling started to build a knot in my chest, morphing to grown worry at record speed. What if something had happened to him?

I flipped my cell open and hit his number, praying that he would answer the call, but the only answer I got was the call sign.

"Fuck!"

And then I began to pace up and down. Up and down. Up and down… It was all I did for I don't know how long. That and dialing his number over and over, only to receive no answer… I put my cell aside and grabbed it again a blink later, scrolling through my short messages, knowing that there was none from him.

My worries began to feel suffocating. It wasn't Randy's stile to promise to call and then just don't do it.

I stopped at the doorway to the kitchen and leaned my forehead against the cool frame. Breathe in. Breathe out. Calm down. Everything will be alright. Just calm down.

In a fit of sudden anger I hit the frame with my fist, crying out my frustration.

I almost missed the knocking coming from the front door.

Not sure if I the sound had been real or if I began to hallucinate things I listened into the silence of the room.

And there it was again.

I all but ran to the door and ripped it open. It was damn cold outside and it rained. A monsoon-like rain with heavy drops that seemed to be wetter than normal rain. And there, at my door, I found a dripping wet Randy, face drawn, shoulders hunched. He looked like a stray cat, beaten, dirty, wet and alone. A lightning flashed over the dark sky and for a second or two its bright light wrapped around that stray cat like a halo…


	5. Point of no return

Hi there!

First of all: you guys make my day, you know that? The fact that you read my stories and woah, all those positive reviews! *beams*

So, here is the next chap! Enjooooooy!

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Randy was shaking and something knocked at my dazed mind and told me that _it was damn cold outside_ and that Randy must be freezing to death, all wet and only clad in jeans and a thin shirt.

Cursing under my breath I grabbed Randy's arm, pulled him inside and started to steer him to my bathroom, where I pushed him into the shower, opening the faucet. A moment later hot water rained down on him, wrapping him into a cloud of steam. Except for the splashing water and his ragged breathing it was quiet in the room. He had his eyes closed and I used the chance to take a closer look at him.

His wet shirt stuck to him like a second skin and his cargo hung dangerously low on his hips and god help me, even now he looked stunning. But he still shivered and looked immensely tense. When he made no move to get out of his clothes, I stepped into the shower with him and began to peel him out of his shirt. Within seconds I was dripping wet, too. He gave no resistance, but he wasn't helping either. I frowned at his apathy. I tossed the shirt aside and started to get his cargo off, but then he leaned forward, resting his forehead against my shoulder. I felt his hands on my hips, felt him bury his fingers in my shirt.

"Cold…" he rasped.

"I know. We need to get your cargo off. And your shoes," I murmured, while the cargo slid down his legs.

"Step out," I ordered him and he obeyed, slipping out of his sneakers, too, his head still on my shoulder, his hands still buried in my shirt.

Not knowing where to put my hands I hesitantly settled them on his upper arms. For a while neither of us moved and while he leaned heavily on me, I watched the water run down his back. Goose bumps flared on his skin, vanished and returned along with waves of heavier shivering.

"Cold…" he repeated after a minute or two.

"Still?"

A curt nod against my shoulder and a slight tug at my shirt. Adding more warm water I stepped a little closer and wrapped my arms around him. His skin felt alarmingly cold. Slowly he buried his face against the side of my neck, making my breath hitch.

We had always been close, including tight hugs and things, but this… was new. Under different circumstances I would have been happy about it. Right now it made me even more worried.

"How long have you been out there?" I asked quietly, trying not to think too much about it.

"Don't know," he murmured and I could feel his lips move against my skin, making my heart stumble a bit, "car broke down 16 miles down the road."

16 miles? It was raining and only about 43 degrees.

"Why didn't you call? And why are you running around without a jacket?"

"Cell's dead. Forgot my jacket in the car…"

I sighed and allowed my chin to rest on his shoulder. A slight smell of alcohol reached my nose and if he hadn't been that shivering picture of misery in my arms that he was I would have slapped some sense into him for driving drunk. Instead I pulled him closer.

We stayed like that for 15, maybe 20 minutes until he stopped shivering and his skin felt warm again. When I turned the shower of, the only sound in the room was the soft sound of dripping water. Randy's fingers unclenched and his hands settled back on my hips. The tension had been washed away with the warm water for the most part, I noticed.

"Hey," I whispered, letting one hand brush up to his nape to linger there.

"Hey," he whispered back after a few seconds.

"Better now?"

A nod against my neck and a soft sigh. I allowed myself a small smile.

"Good. Let's get dried up," I said and wanted to take a step back, but Randy made no move to let go.

"Randy…"

No reaction.

"This only works if you let me go, you know?"

"I'm tired," he sighed.

"Listen… We get you dried up and then you can sleep in your bed, not in the shower. Okay?" I suggested and tried to push him away as gentle as possible and this time, although reluctantly, he let me go.

Stepping out of the shower, I grabbed towels and a bathrobe for Randy, who followed right behind me like a puppy. I turned around, gave him the bathrobe and hung the towel over his head. Then I stripped out of my wet clothes and started to towel myself off.

Musing about if I should ask him now what had happened or if I should let it rest until tomorrow I sighed silently and wrapped myself in my own bathrobe.

Randy sat on the rim of the tub, his elbows braced on his knees. The towel still hung over his bowed head. I stepped closer started to dry his nonexistent hair, attempting to banish the last bit of his tension. He apparently didn't mind, gave me instead an appreciating grunt.

"You wanna tell me what happened?"

Silence.

Then: "Did she call you?"

I huffed.

"Yup. You could say that."

"I'm sorry," he apologized, hushed, sad.

"Don't be. So?"

"I broke up with her."

I nodded to myself.

"Then I packed my things and set out for your place," he continued, "and 16 miles down the road that fucking truck and my damn cell bit the dust and I thought it would be a good idea to walk the rest of the way."

"Without a jacket, through the apocalypse out there. Yeah. Yeah, really, a good idea, Randal. You nearly froze to death out there."

"I already got that."

I remembered the alcoholic smell in the shower and gave him a light smack on the head.

"You drank and drove," I stated, but my voice lacked of any accusation.

"Just a bit."

I smacked him again and he grunted.

"A bit is too much. Don't do that again."

"Yes, mom."

My worries were still there. When I asked him what had happened I didn't mean his way to my house. And I guessed that he knew that, so I tried it again.

"You wanna tell me now what happened? Like, why did you break up with her?"

A heavy sigh. A nod under my hands.

"I just can't stand it any longer. All of it. My whole life with her. I don't love her anymore. At least not enough to put up with all the shit. I tried, but it didn't work."

"You know what I think," I murmured. "This is about your family. You should give it some more time."

"It was all I was thinking about at that hotel for the last days. And it's what I did for the last six months, John," he replied and his voice was low, laced with slight anger and defeat. "Nothing changed, it didn't work. It only got worse."

Me being me, I couldn't accept that.

"Don't give her up, Randy. You know I'm gonna help you, wherever, whenever, whatever."

_Even if it costs me,_ I thought bitterly.

"No way, John."

His last words sounded final, but I couldn't let him ruin his life like that. No matter how much I wanted Sam to be out of our… his life.

And then I felt a cold grip around my heart. I knew something that would drive him back into the arms of his wife. The truth. If I told him the truth, he sure as hell would try to get out of here as fast as possible and where else than back home could he go then?

I heard Randy mumble something but I couldn't catch what it was. Slowly I took a step back, leaving the towel on his head and around his shoulders. I couldn't help myself, he still looked like a stray cat. He didn't react and for a moment I fought with myself if I really should tell him… But I owed him the truth, I owed Sam her husband and I owed Alanna her father.

"Randy, please, think about your little girl. She needs you. Go back home," I pressed out, trying one last time to convince him to do the right thing.

"No, John. I don't want to go back to Sam."

His voice was still low, just above a whisper.

A few days ago I wondered how I would pay for all the shit. Now I knew. I would pay by telling him the truth and losing my best friend.

I clenched my hands to fists, mentally preparing myself for the next step. The room was very quiet. Deafening quiet.

"Randy…," I started, trying my best to keep my voice steady and my breathing even, although my throat felt suddenly very, very raw. "I love you."

I had no idea how he would react about my revelation, so I braced myself for his reaction. But he remained still under his towel.

"I know," he whispered.

If this wasn't a bad joke. Here I stood, setting our friendship and my heart on the line to make him go back to his wife by telling him my _fucking damn_ feelings for him and he… misinterprets it. On the other hand, why should he not? We're best friends and best friends tell each other that they love them, right? But not like _that_… And not after I had blurted out that he should claim me a couple of days ago.

"No. No, you don't," I tried again, desperately. "_I'm in love with you_."

Again, he remained still under the towel and I wanted to shake some sense into him. Don't you get it? I'm your best friend and _fucking in love with you_, you should punch my lights out and go the hell back to your wife, you damn idiot! That's what I wanted to shout at him, because I suddenly felt angry for him being so _dense_ and at the same time I wanted to get out of this room and hide somewhere, to be alone with my guilt and my pain. But then…

"John, I _know,"_ he replied calmly, pushing the towel away from his head, his eyes seeking mine. "I knew it all the time."

There was no anger, no disgust written on his face. Randy's eyes were tender and warm and my heart stopped for a painful moment. He'd known it. All along.

"Oh good god," I choked out and reached blindly for something to hold on, because my knees gave out on me.


	6. Truth and consequences

Long time, no update. But finally, another chap to this story :-)  
I wish all of you a good start into the new year! Love you guys! Kisses and hugs XOXOXOXO

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My fingers found only the wall and all I could do was to let me sink to the floor. Burying my face in my hands I tried to breathe against the steel chain that seemed to lock around my chest, stealing away my breath. I felt like throwing up.

Every word, every gaze… every _touch_, he'd known it. _He'd known it._

"No… nonono…" I whispered over and over again.

My heart was hammering in my chest, making me feel dizzy. I heard him call my name. Once, twice. I couldn't look at him.

"How did you…" I wanted to ask, but my voice failed me.

"… find out?" Randy completed my question. "Give me some credit, John. I know you for such a long time, don't you think I wouldn't notice something like that?"

"You should have said something," I rasped.

"Why?"

My head shot up at his query. His voice was still so incredibly calm. How could be so calm when everything was falling apart?

"Why? How can you ask that?" My voice cracked and I swallowed thickly.

His eyes bore into mine, clear and sharp with all the emotions his voice lacked, emotions I couldn't name, and I had to look away. I couldn't stand his gaze.

"Yeah, why? I saw no reason to…"

"No reason?!" I ground out. "God damn, Randy…"

It would have been fatal enough to tell him that I love him and live with the consequences but to know that _he_ _knew_… All I wanted was to wake up from this nightmare. It was too much… too much for me to bear…

"Go."

"John, please don't do that," he urged, begged.

From the corner of my eyes I saw him reach out to me but when I turned my head away, he drew his hand back before his fingers could touch me.

"Please, just… go," I whispered desperately.

I heard him take a breath, almost like he wanted to say something, but he didn't. Instead he sighed. I could feel his eyes on me, asking me to look up at him, but I simply couldn't muster the strength and the courage to look him in the eyes. He got up from his place and walked out of the room so very slowly. Maybe be hoped that I would change my mind and ask him to stay. But I let him go.

The house seemed accusingly quiet and despite the oh so faint sounds of the storm and the rain out there I only heard Randy's footsteps, the padding of his naked feet on the parquet.

How could he… how… why…? Let me do this, just like that? Tolerate it? Knowing that there was more than just friendship.

I tried to breathe deeply but I only managed a small wheezing sound, still not able to breathe right, and blinked back a suspicious burning in my eyes. And suddenly I felt hot anger boiling up, because I had been so naïve about him not noticing anything and that he hadn't said anything to stop me. In an absurd way I felt betrayed by him although I had betrayed him.

All the time I hid behind my mask of the good old friend to steal gazes and touches and all the affection Randy gave to me in those moments when I was down. All the time I betrayed him to get my fill.

_The difference is, he knew it and accepted it. Accepted me…_

He even favored me over his wife. All that for the sake of our friendship.

Distantly my last words echoed in my mind and it dawned on me how it must have sounded to him… and how he must have _felt_. After all he'd done for our friendship. For me. It must have hurt him, badly and a wave of guilt rolled through me. I had never intended to hurt him.

"Randy?" I called weakly.

Nothing. The house was quiet and for a painful moment I feared that he had left the house. That he had left me. For good.

_Shit. Oh, please, no. Don't be gone._

I tried to get back on my feet and leaned against the wall for support since my knees were still wobbly. Keeping close to the wall, just in case, I made my way to his room as fast as possible, but the room was empty. My heart skipped a few beats. Hurrying down to the living-room, I prayed that he would be there. No Randy. He was…gone? Half a gasp, half a sob escaped my lips.

For seconds I just stood there, frozen, before a soft sound caught my attention. A rustling of clothes. I turned around to the kitchen. A shadow sat there in the darkness of the room. Relieved I closed my eyes.

_God, thank you…_

I walked over to the kitchen very slowly, stopping at the doorframe and without any idea what to say, afraid to choose the wrong words again.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, settling for the simplest and safest words.

The tiniest of nods was his answer. Or maybe I only imagined it? I waited a little, hoping he would say something, but he didn't. The silence was straining my already frayed nerves and after a while I couldn't stand it anymore. I switched the lights on.

No reaction, not even a blink. His eyes were distant while he stared at a glass of water in front of him, encircled by his right hand. His left hand rested on his leg, fingers clenched to a fist. My gaze roamed his face, noticing that his jaw muscles twitched. And… his cheeks were wet. Randy… Randy cried? I made him cry. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came over my lips.

"That wasn't fair," he said hoarsely.

His voice was sad and just as distant as his eyes and it was my fault. A sting to my heart made me flinch.

"No, it wasn't."

Randy pushed the glass away and ran a hand over his shaven head.

"Tell me, what would have happened if I told you that I know about it?"

If he'd brought up the subject in the past… I wouldn't have been able to deal with it. Less than now? And what would have happened…? Again I opened my mouth and again no words came over my lips.

"Well then, let's make it short. You would have avoided me," he muttered, still not looking at me. "John, when I said that I don't want to lose you I _meant_ it. And I _would_ have lost you. Don't you get it? I like spending my time with you and I want you close to me."

"But how could you… I mean, I touched you and… and…"

God damn, here I stood, grabbling for words to _explain_… And then, finally, he looked up and his eyes were so _open_, pleading.

"John, I didn't want things to change back then and I don't want them to change now."

Randy's words should have been calming and I reminded myself that only minutes ago I had been afraid that he'd left me but those words made something stir deep inside me. You cannot make things undone just like that. It would always be present…

"It's too late," I murmured, defeated. "We can't act like this never happened."

"But we don't need to act like it never happen," he replied, his voice as pleading as his eyes. "It _happened_ and it's okay."

"No, it is not. Because the fact that I love you will always be present and every time I'm close to you or touch you or even look at you a moment too long, you're gonna remember it and I'm gonna know that you think of it that very second. And I don't know if I can deal with that."

There, I said it and again I hurt him. I saw it in his eyes, a flash of pain, the way his brows furrowed. But he couldn't make me believe that he wouldn't question everything I'd do in the future and that he wouldn't feel uncomfortable in those situations sooner or later.

I half-turned away from him, leaning with my back against the doorframe. After a minute of suffocating silence Randy rose from his chair and came over to me. Almost like he wanted to show me that he wasn't uncomfortable being close to me, he moved so close that my shoulder touched his chest. And then he rested his forehead against my temple and buried his fingers in the fabric of my bathrobe. It was all I could do not to flinch or jerk away and hurt him even more.

"John," he whispered, almost breathed my name. "Don't do this. Don't leave me alone. I need you."

At his words my heart clenched painfully, because I knew he couldn't mean them the way I wanted him to. Still he _meant_ them. And I wasn't sure if I could give him what he wanted. The old, easy and carefree friendship we had shared all those years.

"I… guess I need some time to think things over," I choked.

I heard how his breath hitched and knew he tried to stop more tears from falling. I had never seen him like this before.

_It's my fault…_

Just when I wanted to take his hand and give at least a little comfort, he drew away from me and left the room without another word. And again I watched him leave.

At the bottom of the stairs Randy hesitated and his hand settled on the stair-rail, closing tightly around it. Then he straightened a little and began to walk up to his room.

I waited until I heard a door fall shut. And then I waited a little longer. I pushed away from the doorframe and followed his way up the stairs, passing his room. There were stifled sobs coming from inside but I couldn't find the courage to go in. When I reached my room I closed the door behind me and sat down in front of it. It was now that I realized that tears were running down my face.

_What have I done…?_


	7. The cap of friendship

Hellas! I'm back with the next chap in tow. Since the last chap had been very emotional, it's hard to top it. I guess. Somehow... uhm. Well, I hope you guys like the new one nevertheless ;D  
Thanks for all the reviews and faves! Enjoy!

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Consciousness tugged at my cocoon of peaceful darkness, ripping nasty splits of glaring lights into it. With the light came the cold and a sharp pain in my neck and my right shoulder. A low groan passed my lips and I fished blindly for my blanket to pull it over my head. Instead of a warm and soft blanket I found cold parquet.

Refusing to wake up fully, I tried again to find my blanket and again my fingers touched cold parquet. I opened my eyes, very much unwilling, and found myself on the floor in a totally cramped position on my right side. That explained the pain in my neck and shoulder.

I blinked a few times and noticed that my eyes were burning, not to mention the dull pounding headache that increased with every second. The position I was in wasn't helping so I pushed myself up in a sitting position with a dead weight hanging at my right side. My arm had gone to sleep. Oh, great. A moment later needles and pins made me wince when blood flowed back into it.

What the fuck? Sleeping on the floor? Why? Through the pounding ache in my head there was a small voice telling me that I deserved the state I was in. I wanted to press the heels of my hand against my head to rub away the burning sensation and yelped when my right arm cramped. Again the small voice told me, very spiteful, that I deserved it.

My brain had taken its time to wake up, too, but now it caught up with the rest of me. And the memories fell back into place, piece by piece, like a row of falling dominos.

_Fuck._

The last night hadn't really happened, had it? Not the way I remembered it?

_Holy fuckin' shit._

My own words echoed in my head, telling him to go. No, I hadn't really told him to go… no way.

_I have told him that I need to think things over… What have I done?_

Horrified, I covered my mouth.

_Someone tell me this hasn't happened…_

Exhaling sharply I tried to get up and out of my room, away from those memories. I couldn't stand them right now and the pain that shot up my neck and arm didn't help to make me feel any better. Just as the idea of being confronted with him when I step out of this room. Or being forced to explain myself when I had no answers.

The door swung open without a sound and I tiptoed out of my room and over to the bathroom, trying to catch a sign of him. Pausing in front of the bathroom, I remained silent, holding my breath. No sound. Nothing. Apparently he was gone and I told myself to be grateful for being alone.

The bathroom was empty and cleaned and our wet clothes were gone. That man did not only walk like a cat, no, he even cleaned rooms up like a cat, namely without making any sounds. At least I hadn't heard anything.

I closed the door behind me, grabbed my toothbrush and avoided the mirror, instead stepping under the shower.

The very moment the warm water hit my skin I was back at the last night when we stood right here, under the shower. Together. The feeling of his head on my shoulder came back, of his hands on my hips. Of his skin under my hands. The way he'd buried his face against the side of my neck. My heart stumbled and I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath against the slight ache that grew in my chest.

And then I was back in the kitchen and again I felt him, where his chest touched my shoulder, where his forehead rested against my temple. His words haunting me…

_John, don't do this. Don't leave me alone. I need you._

"Fuck," I whispered and threw the toothbrush away from me, before I sat down.

Bracing my elbows against my knees I buried my face into my hands. The warm water that rained down on my head and back should have been relaxing, calming but it couldn't fight down the unsettling knot of emotions that coiled up in my stomach.

Again I told myself that I should be grateful for being alone, because I had no idea how to fix this mess. And for minutes all I did was sitting there, concentrating on not thinking of him and the last night - no surprise - without success.

But I had to get out eventually, so I finished the shower, collected my toothbrush and brushed my teeth, still avoiding the mirror and left the bathroom.

I made a round through the house, finding it empty. My way ended in his room.

Sitting down on his bed, I let my eyes roam. It was tidy, as always. The bathrobe lay neatly folded on the chair in the corner. Even the bed gave the impression that it hadn't been used lately. The image of a crying Randy, sitting on the floor, maybe sleeping there, too, popped up in my mind. An image I didn't want to see. An image that made my heart ache and I involuntary turned my head away, as if the image would vanish if I did so.

He did cry last night. I heard it and it was my damn fault. May I introduce? John Cena, biggest asshole of all times. And suddenly I wasn't so happy anymore that he'd left. Guilt reared its ugly head, accompanied by shame for what I had done.

"Damn fuckin' shit!" I exclaimed, letting myself fall backwards onto the bed, where I lay spread-eagled for a minute or two.

A special scent emanated from it. When it reached my nostrils it took effect like a drug, flooding my body with warmth. It was pure Randy. I buried my fingers in the blanket and wrapped it around me like a protective shell. God, this was so good…

I wondered if he'd taken the cap with him. And if… was it a good sign or a bad? To find out if the cap was still on its shelf I had to crawl out of the blanket… no, not yet…

Closing my eyes I let Randy's scent enwrap me completely. God, this man smelled so good. So damn good my chest began to ache.

My thoughts drifted back to last night. I still couldn't comprehend that he had been so easy with the situation all the time. Really, just think about it. Suddenly you notice that your best friend has a crush on you. How easy would it be? To be touched by said friend, to let him come so very close, even comfort him the way Randy did?

Still he had been seeking my company… And again his word echoed in my head, telling me that he needed me…

The cap… it was nagging at me to find out if it was there. So finally I managed to pull myself together and walked over to the closet, the blanket still wrapped around me and I was probably giving an acceptable imitation of a ghost in training.

The cap was still there and I couldn't resist stealing it away from its place. Again, was it a good sign that it was still there? Or a bad?

Enveloped in his scent and with the sign of something deeper that just ordinary friendship in my hands my decision fell before I even thought about what to do next.

_I have to find him. THINK, Cena._

Where could he be? I flew down the stairs, close to breaking my neck by falling over the blanket, and right to my phone.

_His car broke down somewhere along the road and his cell was dead, right?_

So to get away from here he would have needed to use my phone to call a taxi. And maybe the taxi company could tell me his destination?

Full of hope to find out where he'd gone from here, I hit redialing and for once I was being lucky. A friendly voice greeted me, telling me the name of a… hotel…

x

While I walked along the corridor, my eyes were sweeping over the doors on my way to find his room number. The way from my place to this hotel was only a blur, my thoughts were a whirling mess and I was a nervous wreck. The best starting position to get things right. Right?

It hadn't been easy to find the right words, but by the moment I arrived at the hotel my Please-give-me-a-second-chance-speech had been ready in its final version, waiting to be recited.

My feet stopped on their own accord and my mind needed a second to process what my eyes had already caught. The right number. And suddenly the idea of turning around and flee seemed to be very present and attractive. But then again I wanted him to come back and that meant I had to beg for forgiveness first.

Standing in front of the door I tried to get my breathing in order – it was somewhere between close to hyperventilating and not breathing at all – and encouraged myself.

This was Randy. My Randy, my long-time best buddy who went with me through good and bad times. It wasn't possible that he would never ever talk to me again.

_Yeah, who am I kidding? It's actually very much likely that he doesn't even listen to me, not to speak of talking._

I raised my hand to knock and… pulled my hand back, closing my eyes.

_Breathe in, breathe out, calm down._

Fabulous how it didn't work. Straightening up a little I opened my eyes again, raised my hand and… pulled it back. What if he wouldn't even open? Or if he opened and threw the door shut immediately? I could put a foot in the space between to prevent this… I did a step forward, positioning one foot close to the frame.

_Okay, let's go…_

So I raised my hand and… pulled it back. What if he opened the door and tried to punch my lights out?

_Oh, well, I'd deserve it… and it would be a start._

Finally finding the guts to knock, the sound seemed to be accusing and excusing to my ears at the same time.

No reaction.

I started to gnaw at my lips. I shifted from one foot to the other. And the very moment I decided to knock again, the door swung open…

There he stood, watching me in silence. I guessed that he'd taken a look through the door viewer because his face was carefully blank. His puffy and slightly reddened eyes though were telling me that he'd had a very bad night. Without a word he went back into his room, leaving the door open.

Taking it as a silent agreement from him for me to come in I followed him. He stopped in the middle of the surprising small room and I walked up to him. Obviously too close for his taste.

Taking a few steps backwards away from me, he narrowed his eyes. The way he stood there reminded me of the way he stood in the ring when he tried to assess his opponent. He had never looked at me this way and it frightened me, but I did my best to hide it.

"Randy, I know you feel…"

"_You_ say you _know_ what _I feel_? Let me tell you something about my feelings, _John_," Randy interrupted me, the low voice disturbingly impersonal. "A few days ago I sat alone in a hotel room, trying to make the right decision. Stay with Sam and live a life I hate with a woman I don't love anymore and see my little girl every day or end the shit to have a _life_ again and see Alanna only once or twice a week. And the only thing that kept me upright and sane during that time and all the weeks and months before were _you_. Knowing that you have my back, that you are at my side and that you catch me when I fall. And I decided to leave Sam and the only thing I could think of was to get to you as fast as possible and then you go and pull the rug out from under me."

Those well-known grey eyes were sharp and cold and I had to avert my gaze under his glare.

"I know that it shocked you to hear that I knew that you love me and maybe I should have said a word," he continued, cocking his head to the side. "But _you_…"

He didn't finish his sentence. Instead he turned away and walked over to the window, bracing his hands on the windowsill. His shoulders were tense and the muscles of his arms flexed under the tattooed skin.

"You have every right to be angry and…" I started, but he cut me off.

"Huh… you left me high and dry. No, John, I'm not angry," he stated, his voice still so impersonal it ached.

And then Randy hung his head and it was almost like an invisible dam gave way to a flood of emotions, he whispered in a voice that burned with everything he'd held back before: "Damn, John, I trusted you."

With his last words the tension in his shoulders subsided and he turned around, half-sitting down on the window-sill. He did not look at me but everything about his posture spoke of frustration, rejection and disappointment. A thick, heavy silence followed.

I came here to talk and fix things up, without the slightest idea how much damage I had caused.

_Maybe Sam is right. Maybe I'm a monster._

"Randy," I sighed.

In response he crossed his arms over his chest and muttered: "Just go."

It stung to hear the words from him. And those two words weren't even close to what I had thrown at him the night before.

"No," I replied calmly and started to walk towards him, slow but steady.

His head snapped up and he pushed away from the window-sill, straightening to his full height and letting his arms sink down, fingers flexing. The tension was back. His jaw muscles twitched and his brows furrowed, casting a cloud over his eyes. For someone who did not know him as good as I did it would probably have been intimidating. What _I_ saw was a defensive, hurt and insecure Randy. I saw it in his eyes. They weren't cold anymore and yes, they told me how much he hurt, but underneath I could see the same tender expression I had so often seen in the past when he looked at me.

"Go!" he growled but it lacked of any intensity.

"No, Randy. I'm not going to let the same shit happen again. I made a big mistake last night and I'm not gonna let you do the same."

And while I said that, I kept walking towards him. He did not back off but gazed at me with a wary expression. A step away from him I stopped, close enough to _feel_ him but leaving enough room for him to back out if he wanted to.

"When I woke up this morning and you were gone… I tried to convince myself that I was grateful to be alone," I began and the way his eyes ever so slightly narrowed didn't escape my notice. "And then I found this…"

I reached back and produced my old baseball cap from a pocket of my cargo and his eyes fell on it. His face softened a little.

"The rest of the time, up to the moment I knocked at your door, all I did was think about me and the shit I did, about you. About us. And what I want to say if you'd give me the chance to explain…"

Randy's eyes were fastened on the cap in my hands and I had a hard time not to fidget.

"I could reel the big speech I prepared while I drove here… but I guess I just keep it as short as possible… Fact is I'm not sure how to cope with the situation. How awkward will the next training be? How embarrassed will I feel when I see you run around naked in the shower and the guys are around?" I continued to explain myself and I wasn't sure how to feel about that he kept staring at the cap like he wasn't really with me. "I know very well what you did for me, for our friendship and it's hard for me to put into words how thankful I am to have you in my life. I never wanted to disappoint or hurt you. And god knows, I couldn't bear a life without you. You said that you don't want things to change and… neither do I. I'm so sorry. I'm so damn sorry…"

I held the cap out to him and whispered: "Come home, Randy."

Swallowing thickly I tried to calm down my sad and scared heart that started to beat fast. After all what he'd said and I had seen here it was less than a fifty-fifty chance that he would say the one word I wanted to leave his lips.

Randy just stood there, leaving me breathless, hoping, silently begging for agonizing moments, before he reached out hesitantly. Taking the cap out of my hands he brushed his finger lovingly over the worn fabric.

I wanted to lay a hand on his, maybe to reassure him, maybe to reassure myself, but he pulled away, again bringing some space between us.

"I'm aware that I'm asking a lot of you and… how tough this has to be for you," he spoke softly. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea."

My heart sank. But now that I was here and after he had listened to me, I wasn't willed to go back home without him.

Foolish I sent away what I need most. Now here I was. Hoping. Afraid. Alone. My rueful heart begging him for a last chance. So I held my hand out. An offer and invitation.

"Maybe it is," I admitted. "Maybe it isn't. What I know is that I want to make this work, Randy. Together we can do this."

I dared not to ask him to trust me. His trust was something I had to work for to earn it again.

Being the master of hesitation today, he made me wait again. It was a sparkle in his eyes that eventually told me that he'd made a decision. His hand closed gently around mine and a shiver ran down my spine when his fingers intertwined with mine. I felt my heart pound hard in my chest.

"Means you're coming home?" I asked hopefully.

Then he gazed at our hands and breathed deeply, closed his eyes for a brief moment. The tension drained out of him and then he looked back up to me.

"Yeah, John-John. I'm coming home."

At his use my pet name he hadn't said in a very long time and the relieve that flooded me, I felt tears well up in my eyes. In an unsuccessful attempt to hold the tears back I blinked a few times but one tear escaped nevertheless.

With the back of my hand I wiped it away and muttered: "Fuck, I'm so pathetic."

Randy laughed softly.

"Just a bit, Johnny. Just a bit."

I felt his hand slip from mine as he turned around to walk over to his bed and I already missed his touch the second it vanished.

Randy produced his sports bag from behind the bed and opened it, placing the cap on top of his clothes and while his eyes lingered on it, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Then he closed the bag and I realized that he hadn't unpacked his stuff yet, as though he hadn't planned on staying here, not even one night.

Passing me on his way to the door he nudged me.

"Let's go home."

And there was it, finally. It was back… well, at least the small version of that fond smile he shared only with me and god, how I had missed it.

"Yeah, home…" I sighed and while we walked out of the hotel, I was unbearably relieved and happy… and afraid…

Because I had promised myself to do whatever it takes to keep him close to me… and I _knew_ this would cost me.


	8. Maple syrup and pancakes

Here we are! Okay, okay, it's a rather short chapter, but at least IT IS a chapter ;D

Enjooooy!

Thanks for dropping by – I love you, guys!

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Not even thirty minutes after our arrival at home I had to flee to the utility room and tell myself the magic word. Friend. I repeated it over and over again, like some kind of a mantra or maybe even a wake-up call, to remind me my sad little heart about what exactly we had agreed to – nothing more and nothing less than a flat share.

Why so? Because when we arrived at the house, Randy excused himself to take a shower. Nothing dramatic so far. I started to dig through my kitchen to find something edible, set the table with a nice little breakfast, made us some coffee and went up to call Randy.

Out of habit I walked into the bathroom without knocking because, hey, I had seen him naked probably more often than his still-wife, and it's always been that way when he had been here in the past. There had never been the necessity to lock the door or hang out an _occupied_ sign. He walked in on me, I walked in on him. Never been a problem. Nope.

That was until that moment. I stepped into the room, his name already on the tip of my tongue to tell him to come down, but it never left my mouth. He must've stepped out of the shower just a moment before I came in since he was still dripping wet. He turned around when he heard the door being opened.

Drop dead gorgeous. Breathtakingly. Water droplets were pearling down his chest and abs only to disappear into a towel that was low and loosely wrapped around his hips and I couldn't stop my gaze from following their path down his body… and the _way_ the towel sat on his hips made the whole sight forbidden sexy and gods, I would have given my right arm in exchange for being allowed to rip that tempting piece of fabric off of him.

I didn't know if it was because the cat was out of the bag but… I just couldn't get a grip on myself and when I looked back up to his eyes there was a strange sparkle in them… and a small smile tugged at his lips. He caught me staring. And how could he not? I couldn't have been more obvious…

"Uhm… I…" I stammered, noticing on top of it all that my pants were getting traitorously tight and in a lousy attempt to hide it from Randy and save my ass I started to back out of the room. "Breakfast. In the kitchen. And coffee. I… uh… I'm waiting downstairs."

And with that I left the bathroom and ran – well, or something close to it - down the stairs and right into the utility room, closing the door behind me. By that moment it was already more than difficult to even _walk_. I closed my eyes and tried to think of something that would turn me off but instead the image of a most erotic Randy invaded my mind over and over again. I needed to stop that…

_Friend._

I reached out to that word, holding onto it.

_Friend. Friend. Friend… friend… friend… friend… friend… friend…_

A sound escaped my mouth. Maybe a groan. Maybe a sigh.

_Friend… friend… friend… friend… friend… friend…_

I took a deep breath and held it until I felt dizzy. Then I breathed out and focused on my heartbeat.

_Friend…_

It worked. The blood that had rushed south was flowing back into the rest on my body and I dared to take a few steps and to my relief I was able to walk again. Good god, the first day wasn't even over and I found myself already unable to control myself. I brushed a hand over my hair, swallowing hard. Now here I was, trying to hide in the utility room, stuck between embarrassment because I was caught staring and trying to push aside a sudden ache in my chest, because I knew although he was okay with me having a thing for him, I would never be allowed to hold him like I wanted to.

A knock on the door made me jump and I whirled around.

"John?"

The door stayed closed but I knew that he had his hand on the doorknob, pondering if he should come in. Bad timing. I cleared my throat and put on a smile, hoping that if I sounded alright to him, he would just buy it.

"I'm on my way!" I called out to him. "Just looking for…"

Yeah, what was I looking for? My eyes jumped over the shelving, trying to find an alibi for my absence. Something. Anything. And I found one, grabbed it, took a deep breath and left the utility room, my fake smile perfectly fine in place.

"... the maple syrup. Want some pancakes?" I asked him casually, waving with the syrup while passing him on my way to the kitchen, not waiting for an answer.

He followed me to the kitchen and sat down at the table, on his chair. Another thing in my house that belonged to him. It was his chair and his place at the table with his coffee mug, filled with steaming coffee, and a bowel with his healthy cereals stuff waiting for him. I served him an orange juice and I started to work on the pancakes.

For a few minutes neither of us spoke a word and I was thankful for the companionable silence. It was giving me the time to gather and nourish my self-control. The bit that was left… hoping that it would be a full-grown self-control again someday…

After a while I heard the scraping sound of a chair that was pushed back. Randy walked up behind me and reached over my shoulder to steal one of the pancakes. He was so _close_ that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body and the soft touch of his breath on the side of my face. And then his chest touched my back and his hip bumped against my backside… The contact made my body tingle and I had to close my eyes and tried to fight down the same feeling I had when I saw him clad in only that towel.

_Friend… friend… friend…_

Tensing up I held my breath. And then I felt him tense up, too, before he stepped away from me. Not far, only two steps or so.

"John? You okay?"

His voice sounded worried.

_No, _I thought bitterly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Pancakes will be ready in five."

I didn't turn around and willed myself to continue with the pancakes.

"No, you're not," he stated, voice soft. "I'm sorry. Look, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. I'm trying to keep distance in the future, okay?"

_Yes, please…_

"No," I replied, trying to keep my voice light and convincing. "We agreed that we don't want things to change, so we're not gonna change anything, okay?"

Silence fell for a moment. I concentrated on the pancakes and hoped that he would drop the subject. But this was Randy. My Randy, who always wanted to make sure that I was alright.

"Could you please turn around?" he then asked and I knew he wanted to read my eyes, like he always did.

Defeated I did turn around and prayed that my face and eyes didn't give anything away, while he gazed at me with sharp, searching eyes. After another moment his eyes softened.

"You sure, Johnny?"

_No_.

"Yes, I am," I assured him. "Stop worrying."

The worry glinted more than visibly in his eyes and I knew that he hardly believed my words. But he obviously decided to let it rest for now because he gave a tiny nod and the worry was swept away, replaced with a tender expression I couldn't put my hands on.

"Promise that you say a word if something makes you feel uncomfortable."

_Like hell I will._

"Sure. Promise."

Oh great, now I was lying to him. Saying a word would mean that he would keep distance and god help me, I did not want him to keep distance, even if it meant that I would find myself constantly in my personal little hell. He was my drug, making me feel so very good and I craved that, also I knew that pain would follow. Still I would never want to lose that. No, I would surely _not_ say a word.

Almost like he wanted to test me, he stepped close to me again and reached out slowly, slipping his hand through the gap between my arm and my upper body to steal another pancake. I let him, doing my best to keep cool and it seemed that I passed his test, because when he had the pancake in his fingers, he stepped away and returned to the table. And there it was again… in his eyes, the same sparkle I had seen after he'd caught me staring…

I couldn't quite file said sparkle or that strange tender expression I couldn't name… and it confused me.

From his place he looked up to me and on his lips grew such a soft and beautiful smile, that I had to bite down hard on my tongue to keep myself from walking over and kiss him senseless. But then he held up his plate and the smile turned into a full-blown grin.

"You're a bad house-wife, John," he mock-chided me. "You plug pancakes and then you let me starve… Move it, I want at least four. Oh, and I want an apple and some more orange juice. Thank you."

I threw him a half-hearted glare and turned back to the pancakes, muttering under my breath: "Spoiled brat."

He got five pancakes and maple syrup and his apple and orange juice of course. And when I asked him if he wanted the last cup of coffee he told me to have it myself, only to steal my mug and drink half of the remaining coffee after all.

We did not want things to change and yes, things were as they always were. And it was good… and it killed me.

And because it was the way it was I sat there with a smile, watching him steal away my coffee, thinking that it maybe wasn't a bad way to kill myself…


	9. What if I kissed you?

Wooohooo! Another one in such a short time! Ain't I a good girl? ;D

Thanks for r&r! I looove you, I looove you… *dances around happily*winks*

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If this had been a movie, there would have been a happily ever after, let's say, one week at the latest. But this was my life and there were still three days left to the end of first week and the happily ever after that I honestly did not expect to happen.

The first day ended with the two of us in front of the TV with healthy snacks on his side and tasty ones on mine. After about two hours I heard a soft snore beside me. A few moments later his head lay on my shoulder and a few more moments later he ended up with his head on my legs. I gave him a soft shake to wake him, but his only answer was a deep and hearty snore. Then I gave him a harder shake and to this his answer was a soft muttering. He turned his face a little more into my thigh, hooked one arm around my leg and drew his knees up to his chest.

I could have kicked him off the couch. And maybe I should have done it. But me being me, I didn't, because a) as long as he was asleep I couldn't embarrass myself and b) it was a seldom chance to watch him sleep. I fished for the woolen blanket and drew it over him. He sighed contentedly and smiled in his sleep.

We stayed like that until the early morning and I didn't care that my legs had gone to sleep, too, or that my back started to hurt from not being able to move. The TV forgotten all I did was watch over him, watch him sleep. He had a peaceful expression spread on his handsome face and god help me, he was pure cuteness as he lay there.

When I was sure that he was deeply lost in the land of dreams I dared to brush my fingertips over his shaven head, mapped the lines on his face with soft caresses. Every once in a while there was a low hum from him. It was perfection and I allowed myself to whisper the three words.

To love someone who does not know it, to harbor an unknown, unrequited and thus hopeless love is painful enough. But to love someone who knows it and is okay with it, someone who still wants to spend his time with you but does not love you back the same way… It hurt. So very much.

I whispered his name, once, twice. When he did not respond I leaned down, inhaling his scent. And then I breathed a kiss onto the corner of his mouth. He stirred under the touch and I drew back. A few seconds later he opened his eyes and the perfect moment was gone.

It was around four in the morning and we said our good-byes and went to bed. If he'd felt the kiss he didn't mention it. While I made my way to my room I winced at pain in my legs that flamed up after the blood flowed back into them and I was thankful for that pain. It distracted me from the one that burned in my chest.

The following two days went by comparatively easy and without any _bigger_ incident and accidents. And although Randy tried to keep a little more distance, I had to visit the utility room every once in a while. I even put things in there when he wasn't around only to have a reason to go there without making him curious why.

If you irritate a nerve too much, it'll stop hurt after a while. And that was what I hoped for, that over the time with Randy around, it would be like emotional blunting. Hope dies last.

This morning I woke up and I smelled freshly brewed coffee already on my way to the bathroom. When I came down to the kitchen it was empty. I called his name, but there was no answer. On the table waited a breakfast for me, so I filled my mug with the precious black liquid and sat down. And then I had to laugh.

There was the package of fruity pebbles with a sticky note that said: oh come on, really? Right beside it there was the package of his healthy cereals with a sticky note that said: for once, try it. And beside the cereals there was a little bowl with pieces of fresh fruit with a sticky note that said: NO DISCUSSION!

So I mixed his cereals into my fruity pebbles and ate the fruits as a dessert. When I cleared the table I found a fourth sticky note under the bowel with the fruits that told me that I'm a good boy.

Since he hadn't mentioned that he had an appointment today, I wanted to send him a short message, but on my cell was another sticky note and I wondered when he had started to have a fable for sticky notes.

_Gonna get my car. Meet you at the roster._

Four hours later training was done and I stood under the shower, eyes closed, letting the hot water rain down on me to ease the pain in my aching muscles. Through the sound of the running shower I heard Mike and Stephen come in, talking, joking. I all but jumped out of my skin when suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder. My eyes snapped open and I stared directly into Randy's grey orbs and for a moment I forgot where I was and _who_ there was, too.

"Hey, John," Randy greeted me and gave me a warm smile.

I had no idea if he'd done it on purpose, but he blocked Stephen's and Mike's view on me and I was grateful because I knew they would have noticed the way I looked at Randy. He stood so close… His face was still slightly flushed from his training, sweat glistened on his skin and even through the smell of three different shower gels that hung in the air I could smell Randy's scent. And there it was again, that sparkle in his eyes…

And exactly what I hoped would never happen… happened. I felt my dick grow hard. In the shower with my co-workers around. And with Randy seeing it. I closed my eyes, willing myself to vanish into thin air, afraid of their reactions. And of Randy's reaction.

My heart started to pound hard in my chest, stealing my breath, while I waited for a comment or laughter or something else. But… nothing happened. Mike and Stephen were still talking and joking about random things and then I heard them leave the room. The room fell quiet expect for the sound of my still running shower. Faintly I noticed that Randy's hand was still on my shoulder. I dared not to open my eyes.

"John?"

My name was spoken hesitantly.

"Johnny, look at me," he said quietly.

When I still refused to look at him, his hand moved from my shoulder to my cheek, settling there. My eyes flew open and I jerked away from his touch. His hand dropped to his side. The smile on his face was replaced by a worried and guilty expression. But there was no disgust.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Randy was still standing close and the embarrassment of the situation and his closeness threatened to suffocate me. I stepped away from him but my retreat was stopped by the wall.

"I… I need to go," I stammered, grabbed my towel and fled out of the room.

With the towel wrapped around my hips I went straight to my locker, grateful that there was no one else around. A minute later I was able to take away the towel safely. In record time I threw my clothes on, made a beeline to my car and drove home, hoping that he would go out for a drink or whatever, so I had enough time to calm down.

I should have known better. Not even ten minutes after I arrived at home, he walked through the door. I sat on my bed, eyes fixed on my TV and did my best to ignore the knock at my door or that he called my name, begging me to come out and I hoped, prayed, that he would just leave me alone.

How could I look him into the eyes after what happened in the shower? It was a difference between knowing that someone has a thing for you and literally _seeing_ that it is so…

From the corner of my eye I saw the door open up and Randy walked in. I should have locked the fucking door… Gritting my teeth I swallowed hard, bracing myself for the upcoming conversation.

He sat down on my bed and looked at me for a few moments before he asked: "Why did you run away?"

My head shot around at his absurd query. To my own surprise I felt anger boil up.

"What?!" I snapped at him. "How can you ask that?! I embarrassed myself in front of Mike and Stephen and you and…"

"They haven't noticed anything and it's okay for me…"

His voice was so annoyingly calm that it made me hiss in anger.

"Don't say that it is okay for you, god dammit! It can't be okay…!" I exclaimed.

"But it fucking is okay for me!"

He stared at me, his eyes telling me that it was the fucking truth and I stared back at him in utter disbelief because it just wouldn't go into my head that this fucking shit wasn't bothering him the slightest bit.

"I need to get out of here…" I hissed and got off the bed to leave the room and the house.

All I wanted was to get away and out of this fucking situation but Randy was right behind me, holding me back.

"John, stop running…"

"Stop that, Orton!" I snapped again. "I was wrong! We can't make this work…!"

With that I wrenched myself out of his grip, but a blink later I found myself with my back against the wall and his hands on my shoulders, holding me in a vice-grip. Randy's eyes burned with emotions, so fiery yet cold that it took me aback.

"I'm not gonna let you run away again, John," he stated and although his eyes burned, his voice remained as calm as it was before. "We _can_ make this work. Please, Johnny. You know we can. You can't throw this away just like that."

"This?! What, this?!"

"This," he repeated, motioning between me and him. "Us."

"There is a you and me living an absurd agreement!" I growled, again trying to free myself from him. "This is no _us_, Randy!"

"Don't! Don't you dare say that!"

"Someone has to say it…" Weakly I shook my head and averted my gaze, turning my head away and asked in a voice I barely recognized as my own: "Sooner or later we will reach a point where you can't say anymore that it's okay. Or where I just can't carry on like that any longer. And it will destroy everything. Don't you see that?"

Silence, for a heartbeat or two. His grip loosened but didn't vanish.

"Look at me, John," he commanded and again I refused to look at him.

He grabbed my chin and forced my head around, giving me a rough shake.

"God damn, John, will you finally look at me?!" he growled and I did, reluctantly.

Randy's eyes weren't burning anymore, they were soft and tender and _deep_. The hand on my chin settled gently on my cheek. He leaned closer, resting his forehead against mine.

"Don't do this. Don't leave me alone," he said quietly, repeating the words he'd said to me the evening I sent him away.

The hand on my shoulder slid to the front of my shirt, clenching into the fabric as if Randy was afraid I could vanish just like that.

"I need you and I know you need me, too." His voice dropped to a whisper. "There _is_ an us, John. It has always been an us."

"I don't know if I can do that… go on like this…"

Betraying my own words I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer in my bitter need for comfort.

"You can, Johnny. We can, just give it some more time."

A shuddering sigh fell from my lips. I hated him for those words, because I wanted to believe him, though his words threatened to rip me apart. I wanted him to go yet I couldn't let him go. I wanted the _us_ we had, though it wasn't the _us_ I wanted. I did not want him to come close and touch me, yet I wanted him to hold me and come as close as possible.

_Oh god, I love you so much…_

This was so absurd, sick.

I felt his breath on my lips and for a brief moment I was tempted to close the gap and kiss him… but then I pushed him away instead, gentle but insistently.

"I… need some time alone…" I croaked as my voice failed me.

His breath caught and I watched him close his eyes. His jaw muscles twitched. As I felt him pull me even closer it dawned on me what was going on in his mind.

"Just a few hours, Randy."

Randy nodded softly and when he finally let go I could have sworn that there was a feather light touch of his lips against mine. Wishful thinking…

Reluctantly he left my room and the door closed behind him with a dull thud. I walked over to my bed and sat down, my eyes fixed on the door. Faintly I heard his steps as he made his way down the stairs. Then suddenly… nothing. The quietness of the room was deafening.

The events of the day came rushing back, hitting me full-force and in a poor attempt to hide from all this I crawled under my blanket, pulled it over my head to shut out the world. After minutes I realized that tears were running down my face but I didn't care. Hoping that everything would be alright when I woke up again, I turned my face into the pillow and let exhaustion take its toll.

x

When I woke up again it was already dark outside and the fact that my head pounded and my eyes burned gave me the hint that nothing had changed. And I forced myself out of the bed and my room, found Randy's room empty and went down. Kitchen and living room were dark and empty but a thin ray of light that fell through the slightly open door of the utility room told me where I would find him.

Gingerly I stepped in. Randy sat on the washer with his back against the wall and his eyes fixed on an invisible point on the opposite wall. He looked tired and resigned and once again I felt bad for sending him away.

"The room needs a new painting," he stated monotone.

His eyes stayed fixed on the wall. I sighed.

"Randy…" I said in a strained voice because I had no idea where to begin.

Randy closed his eyes and tensed up.

"Do I have to go now?" he asked quietly.

"No," I replied as quietly and I saw the tension ease a little at that small word. "Randy… back in the shower, what did you think… what did you feel when you saw… I mean…"

God, I wasn't even able to put in words what I wanted to know from him. He chuckled lightly. A mirthless sound.

"I felt guilty for bringing you in a situation like that," he answered. "That's what I wanted to tell you the whole time but just wouldn't let me."

Then he opened his eyes and looked at me.

"I don't know how to make you understand that I am not feeling uncomfortable with having you around, or disgusted or… I don't know what you think that I might feel, but you're wrong, John. Do you really think I would want to be around you if I had a problem with our situation?"

He felt guilty? Huh. And he claimed to be okay with everything. Yeah. A small voice in the back of my mind told me that I was done to speculate about if and if not or what may be. Or what may not be. I had nothing to lose, right? Let's try a little boldness.

Slowly I walked up to him and came to stand between his legs. His eyes never left mine. I settled my hands beside his legs on the edges of the washer, close enough to make sure my arms touched his thighs lightly and leaned a little towards him, but it seemed that he relaxed more and more the closer I came.

My eyes roamed his face, searching for a sign that I overstepped a line. Nothing.

"Your reaction should be to freak out, you know?" I murmured.

"Yeah, I know. But I don't feel like freaking out." His eyebrows rose a bit. "Well, I would freak out if it was Brock or Kali standing there…"

A smile tugged at his lips as he spoke and I had to laugh softly despite the rotten day.

"But it's you standing there and that's why I don't freak out, Johnny. And we've been closer before."

And then he hooked his feet behind my thighs, making my breath hitch ever so slightly as he took me by surprise. But he seemingly had not noticed it.

My mind drifted back at his words, back to countless situations where we had been somehow bodily close outside the ring. Like the moment in the shower back at that night when I found him at my door…

Without losing a thought about what I was doing, I took hold of his hips and pulled him flush against me. His only reaction was to settle his hands on my shoulders.

"Like that?" I whispered.

"Like that," he whispered back.

Once again I searched his face but there was no unease written on it. But that strange sparkle was back. That confusing, enthralling sparkle. Feeling drawn in by his eyes I still did my best not to think too much about what I was doing right now.

I tightened my hold on him and asked: "Still not freaking?"

An unnecessary question since he apparently wasn't but I asked it nevertheless, wanting to test him like he did test me three days ago when he crowded me at the cooker, while I made the pancakes.

"Still not freaking," he replied, holding my gaze.

Maybe he was breathing a little faster than he should, maybe his heart was beating a bit harder than usually. Maybe I was just imagining it. Silence fell again as I tried to figure him out without success. Lately he mystified me over and over again.

"You are a strange man, Orton."

"Well, you never cease to bring out the best in me, Cena."

For a few more moments we stayed like this and the sudden ease of the situation made me lightheaded. For a second reality was far away… My eyes flicked to his lips and back to his eyes.

"What if I kissed you?" I murmured, leaning even closer.

"What if I kicked your ass?" he replied, not budging an inch.

And back was the fucking reality.

Straightening up I sighed: "I guess it would hurt."

Randy chuckled.

"You bet, Johnny."

I was about to move away from him when I felt him shiver under my touch. The utility room wasn't heated and I wondered how long he already sat there.

Worried I stated the obvious: "You're shivering."

"Duh. I feel cold."

Frowning I felt the skin on his arms that felt alarmingly cold to my touch. I stepped back from the washer and pulled him with me.

"How long have you been sitting here?"

"Don't know," he uttered, rubbing some warmth back into his arms while we left the room. "Since you told me to go."

I stopped abruptly and he almost ran into me as I turned around to him.

"I never told you to go to the utility room and freeze to death," I chided him and underlined my words by jabbing him into the chest.

Randy caught my hand and held it gently.

"No, but it felt exactly like that."

His voice was laced with a slight amount of hurt and although I knew that I did not need to feel bad for sending him out of my room a few hours ago… his side blow hurt. Pulling my hand out of his, I decided that it had been enough for one day.

"Go, take a hot shower before you catch a cold, Orton. I'm gonna hit the hay."

He opened his mouth to say something, probably to hold be back, but then he closed his mouth again and nodded, smiling. I nodded back and started to walk up the stairs to my room, which was still filled with quietness. But it wasn't deafening like before. It was calming and giving into tiredness I let myself simply fall onto my bed, closing my eyes. It didn't take long until a dreamless and dark nothing engulfed me…


	10. What your eyes tell

Hello, hello :-)

Here we go, part 10 of this story and I want to thank you all for the great feedback!

You all know that I'm writing these stories for you guys? So, please keep on dropping by!

Kisses and hugs!

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After a night full of not very fitful sleep the day started out enjoyably smooth and like the day before I smelled coffee on my way to the bath-room, but this time Randy was in the kitchen when I came down. Although he wasn't the best cook, he was pretty good at making a great breakfast and so I found a table full of tasty things. A bowl of Fruity Pebbles, apple slices, bagels, scrambled eggs, bacon, fresh orange juice and coffee, even pancakes… I was probably looking like a child under the Christmas tree when I came in and I didn't give a damn that we would never be able to eat all this.

"Wanna marry me?"

The question was out of my big mouth before I could stop myself from spilling it. Biting my tongue afterwards wasn't of help, I did it nevertheless. Randy for his part smiled amused.

"We'll have to wait until my divorce is through," he laughed softly, handed me a coffee and steered me to my place.

And again I caught a glimpse of that strange sparkle in his eyes, which was gone as fast as it had appeared. I did not give an answer to his comment and while we sat at the table, having a great breakfast and a nice and harmless conversation, my mind drifted back at the minutes in the utility room. I still could feel how his feet hooked behind my thighs… and his hands on my shoulders. And at the memory of his body flush against mine there was a tingle spreading through me. But to my own surprise it wasn't unsettling… no, I felt calm, okay.

Maybe yesterday had been the last straw that made the emotional blunting thing work? I had no interest in analyzing this any further. It would make the whole situation easier and that was the only important thing.

After the breakfast we went out for shopping and for an uninvolved person it _could_ have looked like we were married. I put all the food into the shopping cart I liked and when I turned away he took it out and put it back into the shelf, replacing it by healthy stuff. And when he turned away I put my food back into the cart. I wanted a nice steak and he told me that we'd take the fish 'cause it's healthier. And then we started to bicker about the whole thing, just like a married couple.

At some point I noticed an elderly woman who stared at us wide-eyed and then I realized how it must have looked for her and I started to laugh, making Randy frown in confusion. So much for healthy food. It didn't help against being slow on the uptake. Still laughing I gave him a pat on the shoulder and continued to stuff things into the cart he disapproved. When we left the store, the cart was filled with healthy stuff to tasty stuff in a relation of three to one and Randy was happy, though he still had no idea why I had been laughing. On our way home we got everything we needed to give the utility room a new painting.

The day went as smooth as the morning had started out. He had an appointment, I had one, too, and so when we met again it was at the company for the show. We were scheduled for a match against each other at the end of the show.

It was a hard match but a good one and for the first time in days my thoughts were not evolving around confusing touches, sparkles, words or whatever. Sweaty and slippery we lay on each other, rolled around, had our hands and occasionally our faces on spots of the others body one could have called captious. Not to speak of the moans and groans and hoarse cries. If it wasn't for the fact that we kicked each other's ass around in and outside the ring in front of millions and for the nice impact my back had with the ring stairs, one could have referred it to a soft porn movie…

After the match I tried to find a reason to delay my admittedly necessary visit in the shower room, just to make sure everyone else, including Randy, was done with showering and found one in Stephen who was up for a little chat. After a safe time of fifteen minutes I said my good-bye and went to the shower.

The room was empty and very much relieved to be on my own, I padded over to the other side of the room, opened the faucet and sighed as the warm water rained down on me. After a few minutes of just relaxing I started to soap myself, humming contently but then I heard someone come in. I gazed over… and froze.

"Hey, Johnny," Randy greeted me smiling, while he made his way over to me.

_Shit._

"Hi," I greeted him back and tried not to think of what had happened the last time we were here. "I, uhm… I thought you were already done?"

"Daniel told me that Cody was looking for me," he explained. "I ran around like some idiot but I didn't find him. I guess if it's important he'll find me."

He shrugged his shoulders and opened the faucet, humming while the hot water cascaded down his body. Cursing under my breath I wrenched my eyes away from the sight and rinsed the soap off to get out of the shower as fast as possible. After a moment I heard him ask if he could use my shower gel and when I turned around to get it for him I felt him touch my back.

A part of me screamed at me to leave, like _now_, but the rest of me refused to go and I tried not to tense up or avoid his touch, telling me that I was already over the point of freaking out after what had happened yesterday. First his fingertips trailed gently over my back and then I felt his other hand settle on the side of my rib cage.

Neither did I turn around to him, nor did I move in any other way, wondering what his intention was. He took a step closer, so close that I heard him breathe. And then his fingers traveled down and his hand settled on my hip. My heart started to pound hard in my chest and I wanted to ask why he was doing this, but the words wouldn't leave my mouth and, god dammit, this simple touch felt so fucking good… and before I lost a though about my next move I laid my hand on the one resting on my hip. His hand on my rib cage slid down, mirroring the position of his other hand.

"Does it hurt?" he asked quietly.

I swallowed hard, trying to get my voice to work.

"I… what?" was all that left my mouth and it was more of a croak than something else.

"Your back," he explained after a moment of silence... or hesitation?

For a second I wanted to laugh but I bit it back. He was worried about my back, nothing more, nothing less. Silly me, I should have known better.

"Not much. Don't worry, everything's fine, Ortz, really," I assured him, chiding myself for being so naïve.

"I'm sorry…" he then said very, very quietly. "The last thing I want is to hurt you, Johnny."

And suddenly there was something in his voice, giving me the feeling that it wasn't my back he was talking about anymore. I took a deep breath as I felt a slight dizziness come up.

"I know," I replied as quietly.

His hold became a little tighter and for a second it seemed like he wanted to pull me back against him and I wished he would just do it, wished it with all my heart. But then his hands vanished, leaving a strange feeling of a loss behind. It was good that he couldn't see my face because I was sure it would have given away how disappointed I was. Finally I turned around to him, handing him the shower gel.

But who did I try to fool? One closer look from him and he saw what I tried to hide. But he didn't mention it. He didn't need to. Just as he read me in this moment, I read him. After staring at me for a few more seconds, he started to spread the gel all over body and I was about to grab my towel and leave when I saw him wince, accompanied by a stifled hiss. I frowned.

"Ortz? You alright?"

"Huh, guess I strained my neck and my shoulders a little too much during the match," he groaned. "Tore a muscle or so."

Randy stepped back under the shower and rolled his head carefully from side to side. I had a good view from where I stood. His eyes were closed and the furrowed brows and the thin lines around his mouth indicated a certain amount of discomfort.

My feet moved on their own accord and I found myself standing behind him in arms-length. He obviously hadn't noticed that I had moved. Watching the water run down his back I felt my heart begin to pound hard in my chest again and that small voice in the back of my mind made itself being heard again… the same voice that had told me yesterday that I was done speculating… Since the moment in the utility room there was a question haunting me… The question what would have happened if I had kissed him…

I laid my hands on his shoulders and he did not jerk away, nor did he tense… but he straightened up. He did not turn around to me though. Tentatively I dug my fingers into his stiff muscles and was rewarded with an almost inaudible groan. I took a step closer, letting my hands slide down his back, digging my fingers into the tense muscles on my way down, before I let them brush up again to his neck, his shoulders… eliciting little moans and groans from him.

"Feels good, Johnny."

The low rumble of his voice sounded a bit hoarse… and it made my body tingle. I pushed him forward ever so slightly until he was close enough to the wall to brace his arms comfortably against it and I took another step closer to him. And while I continued to work on his muscles, digging, tugging, pushing, my hands roamed further… smoothing down his back to his sides, slightly grazing his abs, back up to his shoulders and upper arms… back down to his lower back…

His skin felt soft under my touch and slick from the water and I could feel his breathing speed up a little, just as mine, felt him arch back into my touch. And the small sounds he was rewarding me with went straight to my heart and more southern regions, making me lightheaded.

My hands stilled on his waist. I stepped even closer, leaving only few inches between us and rested my forehead between his shoulder blades. Floating in this strange moment I felt him breathe fast, felt his heart beat heavily and for once I was sure I wasn't just imagining it. Then he said my name in a low, husky rumble and that rumble vibrated through him, through me and he straightened up a little and turned around to me.

His hands settled on mine, holding them on his waist. He was so _close_… and I had never seen him like this before. He was breathing fast and shallow and his face was flushed… the lush lips slightly parted, like an invitation… and his eyes, those normally grey and sharp eyes were hooded and almost completely black… And I was sure if I looked further down, I would find his southern regions becoming interested, too.

_What if I kissed you?_

And I leaned in, brushing my lips in a feather light touch over his…

It was the pure confusion and uncertainty I saw written in his eyes and all over his face that stopped me like a slap in the face, reminding me that he was my best friend, that he cared for me… but not in the way I wished he did. This moment just served as an outlet for the leftovers of a demanding match. This wasn't what he really wanted. My heart dropped painfully as I became aware of that very fact.

My gaze flicked to my hands on his waist and back to his eyes and I opened my mouth to apologize, to tell him how sorry I was for doing this to him, but I couldn't get myself to say the words. Instead I pulled my hands back, even as he tightened his fingers around them to hold them in place.

"I… I gotta go," I rasped and stepped away from him.

"John…" he said and his voice was laced with the same confusion and uncertainty.

I did my best not to wince.

"No," I cut him off. "No. I'm waiting in the cafeteria."

I left the shower without waiting for a response and started to throw my clothes on. And while I did, I bit back disappointment and anger about myself, tried to banish the well-known ache in my chest, noticing that it became harder and harder every time.

His hands… the way his hold tightened when I laid my hand on his… how he arched back into my touch, the way he'd said my name…

_Friend… friend… friend… friend… friend… friend… friend… friend…_

I stuffed my things into my bag and paused for a moment, sitting down on the bench. No matter if I closed my eyes or let them open… I saw those images… his lips, his darkened eyes… and I _felt_ him, so close…

_Friend… friend… friend… friend… friend… FUCK!_

Groaning in despair I wished I could be in my utility room to hide away from everything. But even there memories of him waited for me… I buried my face in my hands and took a few deep breaths to calm down. It helped and after a few moments I was able to get up. The fact that Randy was still in the shower was something I couldn't quite interpret though. I had expected him to follow right behind, because that's what he would normally do to make sure everything was alright, no matter what had happened. But he was still in the shower and it stirred an uneasy feeling deep inside me.

_Maybe this had been one step to close… _I thought bitterly as I left the locker and more or less fled to the cafeteria.


	11. The monster I created

Ladies and Gentleman! Please welcome the next part!

Every time I make an update I'm a little anxious if you guys like it, since it's not easy to keep the "standard", so to say, or to top those parts you liked best up to this day.

Anyway… As always, I hope you enjoy the new part and thanks for the feedback!

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The room was filled with business and chatting people and I got me a coffee, choosing an empty table, glad to have some time alone. As far as it was possible with so many people around. On the other hand… maybe it wasn't that bad that I wasn't completely alone. The voices distracted me a bit and I hoped it would help not to think too much about… the shower.

Nice try. As if I could _not_ think too much about it. Absentmindedly I touched my own lips. It hadn't been a real kiss, hardly a touch, but nonetheless… I had _kissed_ him… in a way. How could I ever forget about that? How could I ever forget about anything that had happened between us until now? With every time we found ourselves in a situation like that it became more and more intense… and for me harder to get over it.

Just a few minutes ago… there had been a moment, the seconds before I tried to kiss him… he'd given me the feeling that he wanted it, too… or maybe I had only seen what I wanted to see. But it had been so _real_…

I closed my eyes against a suspicious burning in them and brushed a hand through my face. It got out of hand. The whole fucking situation with him and me got out of hand. I had no fucking idea what was driving him, if this was just a side of him I never came to know until now, the clinging and the possessiveness, or if he was just toying with me. And if he was toying with me, then why? _Why_? If he had feelings for me that went beyond friendship, something I could hardly believe, then why wouldn't he just say it? It would be so easy. It was a point we had passed long ago, the not telling the other something like that. We had passed it the moment I told him that I'm in love with him and he accepted it.

_You can, Johnny. We can, just give it some more time._

His words echoed in my mind and as much as I wanted to believe them… I knew that it wouldn't work if we went on like this. All the time we were walking along a line and all too often one of us left the line and kicked off another of those fucking situations. He obviously couldn't keep his hands off me, whatever the reason was, and I couldn't stop myself from reacting to it like I did, although I knew I was only hurting myself. Or him. I had to stop this before it would break one of us…

A hand on my shoulder pulled me out of my thoughts and made me nearly jump out of my skin. The tattooed wrist I saw from the corner of my eyes told me who was standing behind me. Although I was relieved that he still came back to me after what I did in the shower, I couldn't stand his touch right now.

"Please, don't," I uttered. "Don't touch me."

Slowly he drew his hand back and walked around the table to sit down on the opposite chair. For a few minutes I stared at my coffee and he stared at me, a thick and uncomfortable silence hanging between us. So thick that it seemed to even shut out the noise around us.

Eventually he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table and said my name, once, twice. There was no accusation, still I dared not to look at him. I knew I had to, sooner or later but right now I would try to say what I needed to first.

"I've crossed the line," I began. "I… I don't know what… why… I'm sorry…"

He still stared at me like he wanted to read my soul, I felt it.

"John, listen, I…"

I stopped him by holding a hand up, keeping my eyes fixed at the coffee.

"I'm not done yet. I'm sorry for what I did. I've let myself be carried away in there and that's the point," I explained, trying to find the right words. "This is getting out of hand. What happened in the utility room or the shower or… these moments… it's too much. I know that this is a one-sided thing but in these moments I can't get a grip on myself. And I don't want to destroy the best friendship of my life because I mess this up."

"John…" he tried again, but I interrupted him anew, because I wanted to finish this before he could talk me into something else.

"Randy, there are two alternatives: either we manage to keep distance or…" I said, forcing myself to end the sentence as I looked up to him. "Or you need to move out."

There, I said it and Randy tensed up, his face paling visibly.

"Am I allowed to say something?" he pressed out between clenched teeth and I shrugged my shoulders.

"You think this is the right place to discuss things?"

Again I shrugged my shoulders and answered: "Why not? No one is listening."

Randy pressed his lips to a thin line, searching my face and I guessed that he was trying to find the right words, just like I did before.

"I don't want to move out," he finally spoke.

"I don't want that either, Randy. But there are not many other ways out of this."

Sighing Randy hung his head and clenched his hands to fists. When he looked up he was even paler and his eyes were glassy. And it was good that we were here, in the cafeteria surrounded by our co-workers because if we had been at home, I knew I would already sit at his side to comfort him. And I knew, too, that I would let the subject drop just to make him feel better. As much as I was feeling sorry to see him like that… it was better for me like this.

He brushed a hand over his forehead and locked his eyes with mine, murmuring: "In the shower… I… it is okay."

It was okay for him. Oh, good.

"It is okay. Wonderful," I huffed. "Randy, I more or less kissed you. How can that be okay?!"

"Dammit, John, it _is_ okay. We've had that before."

"Yeah, we've had that before. It's okay for. It's always okay," I hissed, keeping my voice as low as possible despite the anger that boiled up that very second. "Did it _ever_, just for _one fucking second_, occur to you that it isn't okay for _me_?! You said to me I should tell you if I feel uncomfortable. Well, Randy, I _feel_ uncomfortable with _this_."

He averted his gaze and wiped away a single tear that rolled down his cheek. I took a look around if someone was watching us but they all were busy with themselves and so, although I could hardly bear his touch right now, I dared to reach out and lay a hand on his to give at least a little bit of comfort. His fingers closed around mine and then he looked back up at me.

"Randy, what would you have done if I hadn't left? Tell me, what would you have done if I had tried to _really_ kiss you or… something else?"

His fingers tightened around mine and he opened his mouth to say something, but no words came over his lips. Instead the confusion and uncertainty were back.

"I… don't know," he eventually admitted quietly.

I nodded and replied: "See? I don't know, too. What I know is that it could have destroyed everything. We need to do something before it all ends up in a disaster. So please, for the sake of our friendship… keep distance."

At my last words I felt his grip around my fingers tighten even more, bordering on painful, before he let go and pulled his hand back. Another tear rolled down his cheek and again he wiped it away.

"This is not fair," he whispered.

"Fair?!" I snapped and again anger boiled up. "Then tell me, _Randy_, what is _fair_?!"

I couldn't believe that he really called my plea, because there was no other way I would name it, unfair, when it was the only fucking way it would work if we wanted to keep living in the same house and that unique friendship we shared alive and well. Just as I wanted to ask him what his fucking problem was he leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry, John," he whispered. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

My anger deflated immediately at the sorrow-stricken tone in his voice. Fighting against the urge to go over to him, I sighed and laid a hand on his forearm.

"Randy, look at me," I said, softly pulling on his arm and reluctantly he obeyed. "This is not the end of the world. We just need to follow a few rules and everything will be fine. I don't want you to go."

He nodded slightly and I gave his arm an encouraging pat before I drew my hand back. None too soon.

A blink later I heard a happy voice chirp our names and when I looked around I saw Cody making his way towards us, his ever present Ted in tow. I cast a look at Randy, who closed his eyes groaning when he saw them, too.

"Not now, Cody," Randy snapped when the two arrived at our table.

"Don't be so hostile, Randal," Cody mock-chided him, not much intimidated even as Randy's brows furrowed, indicating a growing foul mood.

"Just go, okay?"

The snapping morphed to a growl but Cody did not budge.

"That's what I planned on and you're coming with us. You owe us a drink and I'm not gonna let you get away with some lame excuse tonight," the younger man explained.

One look at Randy and I knew he would refuse to go out with them, but maybe it wasn't a bad idea to spend the evening for once not together.

"It's been a while since you were out, Randy. You should go with them," I chipped in and got me an unhappy glance from him.

"You're coming, too?" Cody asked grinning.

"No, no. I'm tired," I declined. "Just bring him back in one piece, okay?"

"John…" Randy murmured, his eyes telling me that he really did not want to go, at least not without me.

"Go and have some fun. A little time-out won't do no harm," I murmured back and pulled his bag over to me.

And while Cody grabbed his arm and urged him to get up, only to drag him along to their table, Ted chuckled.

"Cody plans on finding a new lady for him," Ted explained. "Do you know if he's interested in someone?"

I frowned at the news.

"No, he didn't mention anyone."

"Oh, okay. Well, by then."

With that Ted took off and left me with an uneasy feeling behind. I watched as they left the cafeteria and when Randy turned back to look at me, my chest clenched at the sad expression on his face. Minutes after I still stared at the door, before I finally felt like going home.

x

My first way when I came back home was to go to the utility room and get me a few beers for the fridge. I hadn't even put a foot in the room when the image of Randy sitting on the washer popped up in my head.

I walked over to the washer and came to stand in front of it, bracing my hands on the edges like I had done yesterday, and closed my eyes. The memory was so damn vivid and it felt like I was back at that moment. His legs as they touches my arms, his feet hooked behind my thighs… his body flush against mine. And I could still smell him… I breathed his name into the quietness of the room as just another memory of the man I couldn't have, its silent echo dying away…

_God dammit… friend… friend… friend…_

It took me minutes to step back from the washer to get my beer and leave the room. Now, about three hours later, I sat in my living-room after two shots of whiskey and with my sixth beer in hand, staring out of the window. The lights were switched off and the dark room was only partly illuminated by the running TV. I watched as the flickering lights of the TV cast strange motives at the walls, like negatives of an inkblot test. Sighing I switched the sound of the TV off and brushed a hand over my hair.

My head was pounding and every lousy attempt to blank my mind had failed and I had no fucking idea were to start to sort my thoughts. Or my feelings. Fact was, I had no idea how to go on. Somehow Randy's reaction after I had told him at least a part of what I was thinking and feeling wasn't making me feel more positive that things would get easier in the future. I guessed that he got my point but I wasn't sure if this would work out…

I closed my eyes and rested my head against the back of the couch. Maybe things would change after this night anyway if Cody managed to find a new girl for Randy? As his best friend I should have been wishing, hoping and praying that he would find a nice lady, right? I couldn't. The mere thought of losing him to a new woman at his side almost killed me. Wasn't this ridiculous? One moment I wished he would just stop touching me and leave the fuck alone, the next moment I wanted to kiss him, wanted him to touch me and god dammit never ever leave me. How could I blame him for overstepping the line if I did the same?

It was the ringing of my cell that pulled me out of my thoughts and I cast a glance at the watch that showed me 3:18 a.m. Frowning I wondered who would call me at such an ungodly hour but I got off the couch and walked over to the sideboard nevertheless. I frowned even more when I saw that it was Ted.

Flipping the small device open I asked: "What's up, Teddy?"

"Don't call me that," he huffed. "Listen Cena, I need you to come over and get Randy."

The uneasy feeling that stirred in my stomach since Ted had told me about Cody's plans flamed up.

"Uhm…," I cleared my throat, hoping that nothing bad had happened. "What's wrong with him?"

"Let's say his mood is… not very good," Ted explained.

Relieved that it was only a foul mood problem I sighed and said: "Listen, I've had two shots and six beers and I'm not going to drive. Sit him in a taxi and send him home."

"God dammit, come over and pick that monster you created up, man! I don't care how, just do it!" Ted snapped, very much angry.

"Woah, hold your horses, _Teddy_! The monster I created? What are you talking about?"

"Since you and Randy are Siamese twins he won't let anyone come closer than arms-length. And right now he's sitting on a table in the back of the pub, like an angry dog watching his meat, and bites everyone away," he muttered. "My last information is that he's drunk like a sailor, staring at his cell and that it's showing your number so I suggest you're coming to pick him up. Do I have to say _please_?"

Sighing again I leaned against the sideboard and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Since when is he sitting there?"

"I'd say a little over an hour. Now, are you coming, Cena?"

"An hour? Uhm, yeah, sure. Where are you?"

Ted gave me the name of the pub and not ten minutes later I sat in a taxi on my way to said pub, wishing this day would finally have an end.


	12. Closer

Aaaand here is the next part, just for you, my beloved readers :D

I wonder if we manage the magic 100 reviews until this story is finished? *winks*

Ps: There are a few voices saying that they would like to know what goes on in Randy's head. Since we are on the journey with John, a chapter in Randy's POV wouldn't fit in. Now tell me guys, how interesting would this story be for you rewritten (at least partly) in Randy's POV? I'm curious to read your opinion :3

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Ted already waited for me outside. I told the driver to wait and followed Ted, who dragged me across the pub.

"Is it really that bad?" I asked warily and he side gazed me with an alarming expression on his face.

"Yeah, it is _really_ that bad. Not even Cody dares to go over to him."

I swallowed hard. Cody was one of the few people who did not hesitate to walk right into Randy's orbit even if he had one of his infamous foul mood attacks, what meant that if not even Cody dared to come near him… well, that it had to be _bad_. A flat hand on my chest stopped me.

Pointing at a corner booth he said: "Over there. Good luck."

He gave me a pat on the shoulder and before I could say a word he took off. I walked over to the booth and stopped two meters in front of it. Randy sat there, slumped against the back of the bench, one hand resting on his leg, holding his cell, the other resting on his stomach. His fingers were clenched in his shirt. And like Ted had told me, he stared at the cell and was obviously lost in his thoughts.

Slowly I moved closer. Randy looked tired and his face was strained… but what really caught my attention were his eyes… the lost expression in them. He didn't notice me even when I stood right in front of the table, so I sat down on the bench and scooted over until I sat right beside him. It was then that his head snapped up, a shadow casting over his eyes. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was me sitting there.

"Johnny?" he whispered unbelieving.

The shadow vanished but it brought back that lost expression. I laid a hand on the one clenched in his shirt and tried to peel it off, taking gently hold of it when he let go of the fabric. My gaze swept down to his cell. My number was on its display and I wondered if he'd wanted to call me and if so, why he hadn't. I took the cell out of his hand and flipped it shut, laying it on the table. The various empty glasses standing there indicated that he would have a pretty nasty hangover tomorrow and, so very unlike Randy, an almost empty plate with nachos, cheese and salsa was sitting in between.

"You okay, Ortz?" I asked quietly, although it was quite clear that he wasn't.

"No…" he breathed and I gave a small nod, more to myself than to him.

"Wanna tell me?"

He tried to focus on my eyes but it seemed to be hard for him to do so and I became a faint idea of how drunken he really was. When he started to be unfocused, unguarded and on his way back to being a small boy it was becoming critical. And _he_ was becoming unpredictable in this state. I had seen him like that only a few times and every single time had included trouble and ended up with a blackout. One time he had been drunk to such an extent that his blackout included up to four hours before he actually had started to drink. And right now he'd reached the critical point already.

"I... I don't…" he began, grabbling for words. "Don't wanna lose you, Johnny."

I sighed.

"You're not gonna lose me, Ortz," I reassured him. "Like I said, we just need to keep a little distance and everything will be fine. Okay?"

Randy nodded slowly. It was easy to see that this hadn't been the only thing that was bothering him. But instead of saying what it was, he kept sitting in silence. Maybe he was only thinking of the best way to continue or maybe he didn't want to tell me the whole thing at all. I decided to change the subject for a while to give him a little more time to think about it, without feeling like he was on show.

"So? Did Cody find a girl for you?" I asked then, trying to loosen the situation up a little.

His jaw set at my question.

"Two girls," he muttered. "I told him that I'm not interested. That there is no room for a new woman in my life."

Silence fell again and while I let my eyes roam the pub, I felt somehow very much relieved at his statement. For a minute or two we just sat there and I was sure that he was not going to spill what was still on his mind. Then I saw him move from the corner of my eye as he reached out, hesitantly taking one of the nachos.

Smiling I asked: "Since when do you like that stuff?"

He shrugged his shoulders, averting his eyes.

"I don't. I just ordered it because… you weren't here and it reminds me of you."

My smile fell at his words. He ordered and ate food he did not even really like, just because… I wasn't around… and it reminded him of me? A surge of warmth spread throughout my body and I would have called it cute if it hadn't been so sad… Why couldn't things just be easy? Again I sighed, like so very often that day, and wiped the last bit of salsa from the plate with my little finger.

Before I could lift my hand to my mouth he caught it and pulled it over to him, closing his lips around my little finger. And while he did that, he looked back up to me and in them wasn't that strange sparkle but something close to it. Still it was different. I felt his tongue probe my finger and an odd feeling stirred in my stomach, making my heart beat faster. This man managed to be fucking sexy even in the shittiest moments.

"What…" I croaked and I had to clear my throat. "What are you doing?"

Randy released my finger, giving it a last lick and answered: "You stole the last bit of salsa."

I pulled my hand back.

"Randy, that's exactly what I meant with keeping distance," I groaned resigned.

"I know," he whispered devastated. "But I'm not sure if I _can_ keep distance, Johnny."

He stated the obvious, but the reason _why_ he couldn't just keep his hands off was the mystery. Searching his face I tried to figure him out but I found no answer.

"_Why_?" I asked after a few moments, hoping, praying that he would finally tell me what was going on in his head.

"Because… I need you, Johnny."

"How?" I whispered, hoping for an explanation that would solve our problems just by being spoken out aloud. "As a friend? As… something else? _Randy_…"

He looked down at our hands and opened his mouth to say something but no words came over his lips, while lines of sorrow appeared on his handsome face.

When he finally spoke, the words were barely audible: "I… I just… need you…"

I stared at him, at a loss what to say or to do. He'd said this before and to need someone could mean a lot of things. I was sure that it wasn't the real reason, at least not completely, but he sounded so very forlorn as he said those words that it tugged painfully at my heart and I decided to let it rest for now.

"Okay, okay. I guess it's time to go home, Ortz. Come on."

Getting up from my chair I pulled at his hand to come with me, hoping that the taxi driver still waited for us, but he held me back, looking at me with big eyes.

"I don't wanna go."

"You don't wanna go home?" I asked puzzled. "Why?"

He shook his head no and mumbled: "Don't wanna go away from you."

"Ortz, come on, get up," I said quietly and eventually he did as I asked him. "Good. Now listen: we're going home now. Home, nowhere else. You're drunk and you gotta sleep that off. And when you're sober we're gonna talk about things again. Okay?"

Reluctantly he nodded, letting me steer him out of the pub. The taxi was still there.

Not even a minute after we'd crawled into the taxi Randy scooted closer to me and rested his head on my shoulder, groaning softly. Worried I brushed a hand over his head.

"What is it?"

"Tired…" he mumbled.

"We're almost there. Just a few more minutes."

I glanced over to the rearview-mirror if the driver was watching us, but the man made his job and had his eyes on the road. Even at this time of the day the streets were full and I cursed under my breath, because all I wanted was to get home as fast as possible. I was tired, Randy was tired _and_ drunk and the day had been longer than a day should be.

Suddenly I felt a soft nudge at my hand that got my attention. Beside my hand was Randy's, fingers spread out a little, his little finger brushing my hand lightly. Randy didn't look at me. His head was still resting on my shoulder, eyes closed. My gaze swept again to the driver, who stared at the road, and then found its way back to my hand and I took in the image of our hands side by side, an image I had seen countless times in countless situations. This time it was somehow different and it made me frown.

After all that had happened one should suppose that I would nip the next obvious _situation_ in the bud. Should. But I didn't. Maybe because I was too tired, maybe because it seemed to be such an innocent gesture. Or maybe because I was sure that he would have a blackout. Anyway, I allowed myself that little bit of comfort, knowing that I would probably regret it.

And before I was done thinking about it, my own little finger moved on its own accord, slowly moving back and forth a little, keeping contact with Randy's. A soft caress, an innocent touch. And then Randy's hand turned palm up, those long fingers opening up like a silent invitation. My heart skipped a beat and I wondered how this gesture was meant. I hesitated, afraid that I got this wrong. Again. But after a few moments those fingers opened up a little more, hardly noticeably this time. Nevertheless…

I looked up and out of the windshield… and slipped my hand gently into Randy's. It felt right, just to do this, to touch him this way, like it was the most normal thing in the world. From the corner of my eyes I saw him smile softly and felt Randy intertwine our fingers. His hold on my hand was firm yet gentle and in subtle way possessive. I did my best not to think about that this wasn't going to be like that tomorrow. We stayed like this until we arrived at the house. Since Randy refused to let go of my hand it turned out that paying the driver with only one hand wasn't easy, but I managed it.

I pulled, pushed and held him upright on our way into the house, trying to make sure that he would not trip over his own feet and steered him up the stairs to his room. And he still held my hand in a tight grip. In his room I tried to free my hand of his grip but he refused to let go, tugging at it instead, pulling me closer and I had to brace my other hand against his chest to hold him at a safe distance.

"Randy… let go, okay?"

Randy shook his head no and tried to pull me close again.

"Stop that," I said decidedly, giving him a hard push against his shoulder.

He looked at me in question and asked: "Why?"

"Because you're drunk like a newt and you need to get out of your clothes and into your bed." My voice sounded more clipped than I wanted it to, but his stubbornness tugged at my already frayed nerves. "And because I have a headache and I'm tired. So let go."

His grip tightened as he said: "Don't want to."

Frustrated and incredibly tired I brushed a hand through my face and snapped: "I don't care if you don't want to. Let go or I'll make you."

To my surprise he immediately released my hand and took a step back, starting to remove his clothes. Somewhere between dangerously tipsy and wobbly attempts to get out of his shirt, I heard a muttered _sorry_.

_And here we have the small boy…_ I thought, shaking my head but I reached out nevertheless, helping him to pull the shirt over his head… and ended up with my arms full of Randy, who let himself simply slump forward against me.

"Don't be angry," he slurred meekly.

Carefully I steered him backwards and sat him on his bed, almost landing on top of him as he pulled me down with him. Thinking again that this day was much, _much_ longer than a day should be, I freed myself from his arms and created a safe distance between us.

"I'm not angry, okay? Now, I'm gonna get me at least a few hours of sleep and you should do the same."

With that I turned to leave and I was almost out of his room when I heard him say my name apologetically quiet. Looking back at him as he sat there, the lost and sad expression still written all over his face, confused and maybe a little scared, I had the feeling that I wasn't the only one who was suffering silently.

"Sleep," I said, giving him a small smile.

After a brief moment he smiled back. But that smile never reached his eyes.

A minute later I crawled under my blanket and pulled it over my head, wrapped it around me like a cocoon. And although the events of the day were weighing heavy on my heart and my mind, exhaustion claimed its right and thankfully I sank down into a dreamless sleep…

x

Something crept through the thick peaceful blankness that engulfed me like a blanket, calling me out of my sleep. I blinked into the darkness and brushed a hand through my face, floating between being awake and dozing off. Just when I felt tempting fingers reach for me to pull me back into oblivion, I heard a tiny sound. And again… a small whimper. I groaned quietly, trying to blink me awake and sat up, blindly fishing for the switch of the table lamp.

Squinting into the illuminated room, I found the door to my room open, though I couldn't remember that I _had left_ it open… I frowned and wondered if the sound had come from Randy's room and was about to get out of the bed to go over, when I heard it again. From right beside my bed.

And there on the floor, curled up into a ball and only clad in boxers I found a shivering Randy. And again that sound, a tiny whimper, underlined by the shivering that rolled through him in waves. It was a heart-wrenching sight. I sighed, wondering what he was doing here.

Reaching out I laid a hand on his shoulder, giving him a light shake, calling his name quietly. When he didn't react I started to worry, crawled out of the bed and kneeled beside him, pulling him onto my lap and called his name again. And again until he eventually opened his eyes, his gaze sleepy and dazed as he looked around, stopping at my face.

"John…"

Gently I settled a hand on his cheek and asked: "What are you doing here?"

Randy leaned into the touch, and the simple gesture gave me a sting to the heart. A sigh dropped from his lips as he closed his eyes again.

"Didn't want to be alone."

Resigned I shook my head, wondering at which point along the way he had begun to be so fixated on me or if it was only the alcohol that made him act like he did.

"You're not alone, my room is right beside yours and you can't sleep on the floor," I murmured and got up from the floor, pulling him with me. "Come on, let's get you back to your bed."

When I had him on his feet he took me by surprise as he closed his arms around my neck like steel chains and I found myself nose to nose with him. All I could do was stare at him as his eyes roamed my face and the hurt that was written in them made it hard for me to breathe.

"Why do you always send me away, Johnny…?" Randy whispered in a voice that was heavily laced with sadness.

"I… don't send you away," I said, taken aback by the emotions those words carried.

"You do. You always do… You did it after I left Sam and both times when I tried to talk to you after the shower. And now you're doing it again…" Resting his forehead against mine he said: "Please don't send me away..."

Defeated I settled a hand on his nape, the other on his jaw, whispering: "Okay. It's okay, you can sleep in my bed."

A small smile grew around his mouth and this time it reached his eyes. I couldn't help myself, I had to smile, too. We climbed into my bed and I had not even laid my head on the pillow, when he rolled over to bury his head against my shoulder. One of his arms wrapped around my chest.

Closing my eyes to savor the calm and peaceful moment, I pulled him slightly closer, humming contently. For minutes neither of us moved and I was about to slip back into sleep, lulled by the warmth against me and Randy's steady breathing, when I felt him shift, felt him stretch up. And I dared not to move.

"Johnny…" he murmured, his lips so close to my ear that I felt them touch the skin there with a feather light touch. "Just wanna be close to you… need you…"

At his words I felt my heart clench. He sounded so desperate… so lost. I tightened my embrace and in response he slipped one of his legs between mine, molding our bodies together. Whispering my name he nuzzled his face against my neck, making me shudder as his warm breath brushed over my skin. And although I knew that I should stop this, him, I couldn't. To hold him like this felt so good, so right.

"Closer…"

The word fell from his lips in a husky whisper and I felt a tingle coil up in my belly that uncoiled and set a wave of heat free as his hands slid down my chest and abs, slipping under my shirt to brush over my skin.

"Johnny…" he whispered as he stretched up further, moving even closer, until his face was only a breath away from me.

A breath I did not have. I swallowed hard as I loosened my embrace and let my hands roam the soft skin of his back, mapping the muscles. He graced me with a shuddering groan that made my breath catch in my throat and that breath morphed to an all too greedy moan as Randy's hands roamed up, over my sides and hooked behind my shoulders to pull himself on top of me.

I took hold of his hips and held him in place, astonished by the way his body felt soft yet solid against my palm. Tangling our legs together he pressed his hip down, pressing me into the mattress and while I felt myself grow hard, I noticed a matching hardness against my hip… Groaning I met him, pushing against him, creating a delicate friction and he moaned, a low, rough sound that sent surges of heat between my legs.

"John…," Randy breathed and nipped at my bottom lip. "Need you so much… Johnny…"

Bearing the small hope that he would say the words to me I whispered against his lips: "I love you…"

There was a slight catch in his movement before he replied: "I know."

And a small voice somewhere in the back of my head made itself known, speaking to me, saying the same words over and over again, becoming louder until it pierced through the haze that engulfed my mind….

_He's not himself. He's drunk, you can't do this… _

Reality came rushing back, the impact making me freeze as I realized what we were doing. With a desperate sound that was something between a sigh and a sob, I grabbed his wrists and stopped him.

_I know._

To hear those two words had been worse than getting no reply at all and it stung.

I cupped Randy's face with my hands and slowly brought it down close to mine, whispering: "This is not what you really want. And I don't want you to hate me tomorrow."

"But…"

"No," I cut him off and breathed a kiss to his forehead. "No. I can't. Not like this…"

Rueful I brushed my thumb along his jaw line and Randy held my gaze, the well-known confusion and uncertainty, disappointment and so many more motions shining in those eyes… but the one thing I hoped, wished… needed to see wasn't there. Love.

I drew my hands back. Randy kept staring at me for a few more moments and I felt bad for pushing him away because it seemed that he did not understand why I stopped this, but then he averted his gaze and shifted to lie down beside me.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly and slipped my arm under his head and to my relieve he turned to me and settled his head on my shoulder and his hand over my heart.

Silence fell as I held him tight. A short while later I felt him relax and as his breathing slowed down I knew that he had fallen asleep.

It wasn't his fault. Not entirely, anyway. He wasn't to blame for being so irresistible, like now when he was asleep, his usually guarded face just beginning to relax. Every weak attempt to prevent those situations had failed, either because Randy couldn't keep his hands off of me or it was me who just couldn't get a grip on myself.

Even now, knowing that all defences were down and that it was a mistake, it was hard not to get lost in the simple feeling of his breath on my neck, not think of any other course of action but kissing him. And so, turning my head just slightly to bring my face close to his, I laid my lips on his in a soft and sweet kiss he never knew I gave him. And it hurt. So very much.

Closing my eyes I hoped that sleep would find me soon and I didn't try to hold back the tears that started fall from eyes. And so I waited, feeling the warmth of the body in my arms, breathing Randy's scent and listening to his every breath until oblivion finally engulfed me…


	13. What lay forgotten

Oh my gosh, the magic 100 reviews!

I was so absolutely and totally HAPPY about the feedback and all I can do is to say THANK YOU SO MUCH, GUYS! For everything!

I LOVE YOU XOXOXOX

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Pure contentment can have so many different faces and when the first signs of the new day soaked through the cozy cocoon of peaceful sleep that enwrapped me, it bestowed me the probably perfect way to wake up. The first thing I became aware of was warmth… a warm body pressed up against my side, in my arms, a head on my shoulder and an arm that was wrapped around my chest, holding onto me, holding me tight. There was a soft, calming breathing and a steady heartbeat under my touch. I hummed and pulled the warmth closer to me. A small sigh was the answer and I smiled, floating in this perfect moment, refusing to wake up fully.

But the thing with waking up is, that sooner or later you pass a certain point and awareness starts to overweight and reality finds its way back to you. And it found me too soon. When it wasn't any longer possible for me to hold onto the comfy half-sleep I opened my eyes, blinking against the light that fell through the windows. And the more I became awake, the more that pure contentment vanished, leaving only the memories of the past day behind.

And here I lay, finding it impossible to shut out the ache in my chest those memories brought about. I lifted a hand, tenderly caressing the side of Randy's face. He looked so very young and peaceful… With another small sigh he shifted a little in my embrace, nuzzling against my chest as he hooked one leg over mine. I let my fingers brush over his neck and shoulder to his arm, over the heavily inked skin there. It felt so soft, made to be touched.

In the quietness of the room seemed everything that was haunting me to be even more present than it was anyway… so much more present that it was hardly bearable. Looks, touches… his voice, his scent… emotions. Questions and no answers. Hope and desperation should not be so close to one another, yet they were.

What was driving him? One moment he gave me the feeling that he was the always caring best buddy, the next moment he touched me and let me touch him in a way a best buddy wouldn't, like there was more than just friendship, but then all it took was one look into his eyes to see that there was not even the tiniest trace of _that_ kind of love.

_I need you, Johnny._

To need someone does not mean that you are in love with that very person.

_I… I just… need you…_

I just need you… and no answer to the question _how_ he needed me.

"I love you… _Randy_…"

_I know._

I still could hear those words. Words that cut like a knife and all I could do was trying to stop the bleeding somehow.

Taking a deep breath I tried to bite back a sudden burning in my eyes. I was so sick of hurting, of hoping, wishing. Waiting. Of all of this and by God, I wished I would just see my best buddy again… and only that… when I looked at him.

"Randy…" I whispered. "I can't go on like this… I'm sorry, I'm so damn sorry…"

At my words he subconsciously tightened his hold on me, almost like he'd heard them although he was still fast asleep. I did not want him to move out but I had to stop this. Somehow. Even if it meant that I had to keep him at distance by pushing him away bodily… and that I would most likely hurt him by doing so.

Closing my eyes I turned a little towards him, wrapping my free arm around his shoulders to draw him even closer, resting my cheek against his temple. It was at least a bit of comfort, a little strength it gave me to brace me against whatever this day would bring and for a while I just held him, letting his soft breathing ease my troubled mind.

But I had to get up eventually, so after long minutes I untangled myself from him to crawl out of the bed and with a quiet hum Randy scooted over to the spot where I had been lying. Burying his face in my pillow he curled up to a ball and I pulled blanket up to his shoulders and sat back down onto the bed, watching him for a few more minutes. We had often enough shared a hotel room while being on tour but I had never dared to just sit at his side and watch him sleep. Wasn't it absurd how doing such a simple thing like watching a beloved one could give so much solace and peace? So many lost moments…

Leaning forward I breathed a kiss to his temple and he rewarded me with a content sigh and a small, boyish smile. A carefree smile that I had seen way too little on his face lately…

I closed the blinds and after my visit to the bath-room I tiptoed back to his side, leaving him a glass of water and some painkillers on the bed stand, plus a bucket beside the bed, just in case that his stomach would revolt. He was still fast asleep and I guessed that he wouldn't wake up before lunch-time, or maybe not even before afternoon.

Wrenching myself away from his side, I made my way down to the kitchen.

I had no appetite at all and so I just made some coffee, only to sit alone in my kitchen, staring at the steaming black liquid. Sipping at it, I thought about what I had to do today. I decided that Chili would do for lunch. The utility room needed to be cleared. It was already 10 a.m., that meant it would be noon until I was done with it, and since the Chili needed its time to cook it had to be prepared first. After lunch I could start with the new painting. And maybe there would be time left for a little sport to clear my mind…

It took me a moment to realize that my cell was ringing. With the mug in my hand I walked over to the table in the living room where the cell lay and frowned when I saw who was calling. Going back into the kitchen to refill my mug, I flipped the cell open and answered the call.

"Hey Ted. What's up?" I greeted him, filling the mug.

"Hi. Just wanted to know if Randy's alright," he said and I noticed a slightly strained tone in his voice, which made me even more frown.

"Yeah, well, he's still asleep but I guess aside from a bad headache and a bit of throwing up he'll be fine when he wakes up."

There was a short pause before he continued: "Listen John… I don't know what was wrong with him yesterday, but… don't get me wrong, just be the friend for him you claim to be and show a little consideration for him, okay? You know he just broke up with Sam."

For a second I just stood there, telling myself that he had no fucking idea what was going on between Randy and me and that he was just worried about a friend. It didn't work and I barked a mirthless laugh.

"_Consideration_?! _The friend I claim to be…?!_ Let me tell you what, _Teddy_, I doubt that his mood had anything to do with Sam but I suggest you ask him yourself, maybe he explains himself at least to _you_!" I snapped at him and ended the call, not waiting for another word from him.

"Fuck!"

I a fit of anger, frustration and helplessness I hurled the mug against the wall, where it shattered to a thousand pieces, the coffee in it spreading all over the wall and the floor and the tears I had successfully been holding back since I woke up started to fall. Sobbing I sat down on the floor, the cell slipping out of my hand, landing beside me and I pulled up my knees, burying my face against them.

"Gimme a fucking break…" I whispered to what higher spirits there might be.

And while I sat there, sobbing like a little boy, my cell started to ring again and after a few minutes again. Minutes swept by as I sat crouched down in the middle of my kitchen and even if I would have wanted to get up, I wouldn't have been able to.

The coffee on the wall dried and between the mess in my head the absurd thought that it was a good thing that kitchen and utility room had the same color and that I did not need to go out and buy extra wall paint popped up. Into the sobbing mixed laughter. This was so sick… Eventually I was able to get up again. I swept up the shards and wiped the coffee puddle away. The dried coffee on the wall looked ridiculously like a piece of Modern Art.

The morning went by very slowly and after I had the Chili on the cooker I started to clean out the utility room, just as planned. Every once in a while I went up to my room to make sure Randy was okay and as far as I could judge it he was. He was still dead to the world though and didn't even react when I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed to watch him for a short while.

"Consideration, huh?" I murmured, letting my eyes roam his face, which was completely relaxed, over to the one hand that was not hidden by the blanket and rested beside him.

Out of an impulse I took it and he closed his fingers around mine, mumbling my name in his sleep. I frowned.

"What's going on in that head of yours, Randy?"

He sighed and let go of my hand as he turned around to lie on his side with his back towards me. The blanket slid down to his waist, revealing the beautiful piece of art that spread over his shoulders and the smooth skin of his back, which I knew was so very soft. Reaching out I let my fingertips trail along his spine and back up, over his tattoo, feeling the hardly perceptible scars the tattooing had left. A shiver ran through him and he hummed, but he did not wake up. I pulled the blanket back up to his shoulders and left the room to go back to work.

Around 1 p.m. I was done clearing the utility room and was on my way to the kitchen, when I heard the faint sound of a running shower, telling me that Randy had finally fallen out of his nest. A rush of adrenaline surged through me at the thought that in a few minutes I would know what he remembered… and what his reaction would be. Setting the table I waited for him to come down. And about five minutes later he did come down with his cell at his ear and I paused, trying to catch with whom he was speaking.

"Listen, thank you for worrying about my well-being, really, but I'm feeling perfectly fine being where I am and John does a great job pampering my hung-over ass, if you believe it or not," he explained slowly, sounding pretty tired and annoyed. "I gotta end the call. Bye."

Randy came in, flipped the cell shut, tossing it onto the table and gave me a small smile. He looked pale and a little wobbly on his feet and he sat down on the edge of the table, watching me as I stood at the cooker, stirring the Chili.

"Who was that?" I asked casually.

He huffed.

"Sam. She said Cody called her and told her about my breakdown, as she named it. And she… offered me to come back."

I froze at his last sentence and he huffed again, shaking his head slightly.

"As if I would ever trade you for her…"

I breathed out audibly, but it seemed that he hadn't noticed it.

"And why the hell did Cody call her anyway?" Randy muttered. "Why didn't they call you?"

Cody had called Sam. Just great. I couldn't believe it, what was the kid thinking? Obviously that I wasn't capable of taking care of a drunken Randy. If there was someone who could do it, it was me, since Randy would let no one except me come closer than arms-length. At least that had been Ted's words, right?

"They did call me. I picked you up and brought you home."

"Oh… was it really that bad?" he asked quietly and I had to frown.

"Yeah, it was that bad. How are you feeling by the way? You look pale."

"A nasty headache. But I'm hungry," he yawned. "Thanks for leaving some painkillers. Hope they'll do their job soon, my head feels like it'll burst any second."

A short pause followed and he cleared his throat.

"Uhm… I woke up in your bed…" he muttered, sounding not all too happy about it.

_Ouch_.

I swallowed and replied: "You refused to sleep in your own bed."

Another pause.

Then: "Oh. Okay. Did I do or say… anything stupid?"

Again, ouch. How was I supposed to understand that question? What the hell was _anything stupid_ for him? When I did not answer right away he pushed himself away from the table and came over to me.

"John?"

I closed my eyes for a brief moment and turned to face him, searching his eyes and I found the oh so familiar confusion in them.

"Randy, what do you remember?" I wanted to know, seemingly adding to his confusion with my counter question.

A frown appeared on his face, then his brows furrowed. Various other expressions crossed his face, shining in his eyes, accompanying the confusion, giving me a bad feeling.

Then he groaned and massaged his temples, before he replied quietly: "My music hit and I walked down to the ring."

Staring at him wide-eyed, I couldn't believe it. That meant he had forgotten everything. The shower, our talk afterwards, the pub and our little encounter in my bed. Everything. And I wasn't sure if I was happy about that fact, especially as to what I had told him in the cafeteria.

"Are you serious?"

He was, it was written all over his face but I still couldn't believe it. Slowly he nodded. I nodded, too, more or less because I had no idea what to say, and turned back to the Chili, adding some more seasoning. From the corner of my eye I saw Randy reach out, dipping his little finger into the Chili.

Whatever came over me… when he drew his hand back I caught it… Maybe it was because I simply couldn't believe that he did not remember the last night, that I wanted to cause a reaction by my actions that proofed otherwise… but I closed my lips around his finger, licking the Chili off of it, like he'd done with my finger at the pub. Randy's eyes widened visibly and he swallowed hard. His gaze was fixed on my mouth. He looked shocked and at least not disgusted, but there was no hint that he _did_ remember the last night and just pretended that he'd forgotten everything. Then he opened his mouth to say something. Releasing his finger I spoke before he could.

"Chili's ready. You should eat something if you're hungry. And take another shower, you reek like stale beer."

I gave him a lopsided smile, patted his shoulder and made my way out of the kitchen, when I heard him call my name. Turning around, I looked at him in question and found him looking back at me, worried and unhappy.

"John? What happened last night?"

_Too much. And not enough._

"You were really, _really_ drunk and not very nice to Ted and Cody," I sighed. "By the way, you should contact Ted. He called this morning and asked how you're doing."

He cocked his head and squinted his eyes, and I knew it wasn't because of his headache.

"What's wrong, Johnny?"

I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders, hating him for knowing me so well.

"I just don't feel very good. Now, eat something, take a shower and get some more sleep, you look like you need it. I'm gonna go paint to utility room."

With that I left the kitchen and went over to said room, closing the door behind me. It was pleasantly quiet. Quiet enough to hear silent footsteps on the other side that stopped right at the door and I knew that Randy was standing there, debating with himself if he should come in or if he should give me some time for myself. I was deeply grateful when I heard him walk away after a few moments.

After spreading out the newsprint on the floor I started to paint the walls, lost in my thoughts. Should I tell him what had happened? And if, how the hell should I tell him the facts? There was no one else who could spill the details… why tell him anything at all? I could put a _did not work this way_-label on that day and try to find another way to solve the problem. And Randy wouldn't know… But I would have to hope for the rest of my life that he _really_ wouldn't find out.

I groaned quietly. Fuck all the brooding, it didn't help a bit. I still was at a loss what to do or say. And that applied to the whole fucking situation.

_Maybe I should have never asked him to move in…_

That thought left a bitter taste on my tongue… but it carried a certain amount of truth…

About half an hour later the door jumped open and Randy came in. He looked a little better than he had after getting up, what I traced back to the fact that he'd eaten something. Well, and maybe the second shower had done its part, too. A wave of his scent reached my nose and I took a deep breath.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" I asked, continuing to paint the wall.

He grabbed one of the paint rollers and started to work on one of the other walls.

"Nah, I'm feeling better. Didn't want to burden you with doing the whole painting alone."

I threw him a side glance and helped myself to a warm tingle in my belly, because every time he stretched up a little, his shirt revealed a thin line of tanned skin. The loose fitting jeans he wore did its part by sitting low on his hips.

_Great, Cena, go ahead, keep looking at him and torture yourself…_ I thought, focusing back on the wall.

For a while we worked silently side by side and I felt at ease, with him and with me and I wished it could always be like this. But instead I had to lose control whenever he came closer or touched me. Great. It seemed inevitable. It was like a switch being flipped. One moment everything was fine, the next moment I snapped at him, pushed him away, wanted to run away or more or less jumped him.

And with this I caught myself again thinking too much instead of just being grateful for some calm moments. After a few more minutes we reached the same corner of the room and he nudged me with his elbow, giving me a questioning look.

"What happened to the wall in the kitchen?"

I winced at the question. Yeah, what had happened… I dropped my coffee? Sure, as if he would buy that… Since I found no good explanation, I tried the truth.

"I threw my coffee at it."

Silence. I didn't look at him and continued my task. After a moment he snorted.

"A lousy attempt to find out how cappuccino colored walls would fit to the rest of the kitchen?"

I smiled at his words, thankful that he did not ask for the reason.

"No. Dabbled in Modern Art," I replied and he chuckled lightly.

Another moment of silence before I heard him sigh.

"I called Ted," he said quietly.

"Good," I replied.

"He said that you sounded a little… strained this morning."

I paused a second, gnawing at my bottom lip.

"Well… I had a _tiny_ problem with his choice of words," I admitted slowly and saw him nod from the corner of my eye.

"He told me about my foul mood and what he'd said to you and I assured him that Sam hadn't been the reason for my mood."

Now it was my turn to nod. Good thing, not need to play considerate in the future if Ted was around. Fine.

"Johnny… I know I'm not always easy to handle, but if I really was in such a mood… I wonder why, you know?"

This time I did my best _not_ to pause. The more we talked, the less I wanted to have to explain everything to him… Shrugging my shoulders I tried hard to think for a good answer. And I found one.

"Sorry, I don't know what happened in the time after you left the cafeteria until I had to pick you up," I said as neutral as possible.

It was a good answer, because I didn't have to lie to him. Neither did I have to assert that his mood had been splendid before he left the cafeteria, nor did I in fact have an idea what _exactly_ had been the reason that he'd tried to drink himself into oblivion until I came to bring him home.

_Coward…_

Randy pursed his lips, studying my face and I turned away before he could see _something_ there and squatted down to prepare the paint roller for the ceiling. He kept staring at me and it seemed that something in the air… shifted. A chill ran down my spine. Armed with the dripping paint roller I got up again and held it in his direction.

"Stop staring at me, Orton, and make yourself useful. There's still one wall left to paint," I commanded. "Shoo!"

He hesitated a moment, assessing me like he'd done back in the small hotel room and again a chill ran down my spine. I raised an eyebrow and aiming for his chest I pushed the paint roller forward, leaving a nice and neat white blotch there. Randy gazed down at his shirt and back up to me, squinting his eyes… and walked over to said wall.

Stretching up I began to make myself busy at the ceiling and the quiet rustling of the newsprint was the only warning I got before a good amount of the paint landed with a rich splat on my back. A low chuckle followed and while I threw a muttered _brat_ over my shoulder, I peeled the sticky shirt off of me.

After tossing the shirt over to the door I continued with painting the ceiling, lost in my thoughts and for a while I almost forgot that I wasn't alone in the room. Almost. The soft back round sounds coming from Randy stopped and a few seconds later I heard steps on the outspread newsprint, coming to a halt right behind me.

"Your back…" he said quietly.

I knew that there was a nicely colored bruise from the rings stairs, I had seen it this morning in the mirror and I should have known that he would react to it.

"From the match. It's fine, don't worry," I replied as neutral as it was possible and hoped he would leave it alone.

"Does it hurt?" he asked guiltily. "It looks nasty…"

And then his fingers trailed along the bruise and I froze, swallowing hard as I closed my eyes.

_Please… not again…_

He whispered a _sorry_ and as his breath ghosted over the skin of my neck I became a faint idea of _how_ close he stood. Too close. _Much_ too close…

Jerking away from his touch I snapped: "Distance, Randy."

Although he stopped his movement, his touch remained and I found it hard not to push him away and just run.

"Johnny, what happened?" he asked, worry heavily lacing his voice and I could more than imagine the worried and bewildered expression he for sure would have on his face if I turned around that moment.

This was so ridiculous! Tell him, tell him not, let him have his way, push him away and I had _no fucking idea what to do_! Because I knew, whatever I did, it would be the wrong thing…

_… coward…_

"Nothing happened," I rasped and it wasn't a complete lie, at least not about our almost intercourse. "Just… don't touch me. Please."

But his touch did not cease.

"_Please_," I repeated.

I didn't care that the words that left my lips sounded like a desperate and weak plea, because they were exactly that. If I had learned one thing in the past few days since I told him to come home, than it was that things only became worse with every passing day.

"John-John…"

_Don't you fucking try the John-John-thing on me!_ I snapped at him in my thoughts.

But I only replied: "Don't… call me that."

Even though it was only his fingertips touching me, I felt him tense up.

"I'm serious, what the hell happened?" he said and his tone was underlining his choice of words, making it crystal clear that he was done discussing. "Has is something to do with the bruise?"

"No," I pressed out, the closeness to him becoming suffocating and I wanted to step away from him, but his hand on my back slipped down, taking hold on my hip to hold me back.

_No… no-no-no…_

My voice failed me just as I wanted to tell him to take his fucking hand off of me. And then my blood ran cold as he spoke again.

"John, I… Did I… lay my hands on you?"

Randy's voice was hardly a whisper, thick with fear. He drew his hand back as if he was burned.

I turned around, seeking his eyes and said quietly, urgently: "Gods, Randy, _no_. You've done nothing like that…"

And I wanted to ask him if he really thought I would let something like that happen and why he came up with such an idea at all, but he was deathly pale as he stared at me, his breathing shallow and he swayed slightly. The words died in my throat. Out of reflex I reached out, grabbing him by the waist to steady him. The paint roller slipped out of his hand, landing with a quiet splash on the newsprint. And then it happened. I could see it in his eyes…

Randy looked down at my hands on his waist. His hands settled on mine, closing around my wrists in a vice-grip, and as he looked back up to me his brows furrowed over sharp and clear eyes… and I could literally watch every single memory fall back into place…


	14. All that remains

My beloved readers, this is the penultimate chapter. Let's say it's the first part of the finale.

I know it took us a while to get here :D

Thanks again for all the feedback and have fuuuuun reading this one XD

Note: For all those who already read this chapter, I edited the end with one or two words, concerning what our two boys actually did. I hope it does the job ;-)

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I tried to pull my hands back, attempting to get them free, but it was of no avail. My heart began to pound hard in my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

"John?"

Randy's voice was low, calm and very, very quiet as he spoke and it scared me, far more than if he'd been loud and angry. And all I could do was standing there, paralyzed, my hands trapped in his as he stared at me.

_Here it comes. Here come the consequences…_ I thought bitterly.

In a weak attempt I tried again to free my hands but he held them tight, bordering on painful, and a sound that sounded strangely like realization fell from his lips as he stepped even closer. His eyes never left mine and they _spoke_ to me.

I saw my old friends confusion and uncertainty. I saw them there with shock, wonder, anger and… and fear. I saw a cold edge in them. Warmth, worry. And tenderness.

They showed me the very second he remembered the shower and I felt one of his hands release mine to reach up to his lips. My heart sank as he squinted his eyes at me. The kiss…

I wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in my throat and it was only a look I could offer him as an apology, a look that should tell him how sorry I was. Randy opened his mouth, but just as they had failed me, the words seemed to fail him, too, and it was only a sigh that came over his lips.

Then I saw the next memory find its place and it wasn't us being in the cafeteria. His eyes softened a bit and his hand found back to my free one, which still rested on his waist and he took hold of it, very gently, as he lifted it up a little. Gazing down he let his fingertips trail over the palm of my hand to my little finger and I knew he was back at the pub. Goose bumps flared on my arms at the feather light caress.

And I knew what was about to come next and although I had felt relieved when I saw his eyes soften, I was afraid what the next memory would cause in him. This time there was no way he could, would say that it was okay. It was something that went far beyond okay…

Again I tried to say something, but all that left my mouth was his name, wrapped in a whisper, in a plea. Here I stood, scared to death that this were the last minutes before everything would shatter beyond the point where it could be repaired. That these minutes were the last of our friendship and they slipped through my fingers like sand.

As he tilted his head slightly to the side I knew he was there, back at what we did in my bed and I closed my eyes, swallowing hard. I didn't want to see his eyes… A few seconds nothing happened but then his touch at my little finger vanished and my eyes snapped back open as his fingers settled on my lips.

It could almost have been funny to see his eyes grow wide as they did that second… if the situation wouldn't have been so severe. But it was. And it became even worse…

With a sharp intake of breath Randy drew his hand back. A shadow cast over his eyes and his jaw set.

"You… I…," he stammered horrified, looking down at his own hands as if he saw them for the first time.

Not good. Not at all… The way he stood there, the expression on his face… My heart sped up and there was a pressure on my chest that threatened to choke me. I realized that it was growing panic. Every fiber in my body screamed to leave the room, to get away from here. From him.

… _coward…_

Randy was distracted and I used the chance. Ignoring the small voice in my head that called me a coward for running away, I pushed past Randy to leave the room.

But not even two steps later I was stopped dead as Randy's arms wrapped around my upper body, trapping my arms against my body and I was pulled back against his chest. I fought against him, squirmed to get free, tried to force his arms apart, but his they stayed locked around me like steel chains and he pulled me even tighter against his chest.

"Let me…" I gasped, still trying to get free somehow.

He didn't let me go. Silently he waited until my resistance subsided and eventually I gave up, leaning back against him. And then he waited a few more moments longer, just holding me, maybe to give me the time to calm down, but all I wished was to get away. Those few moments felt like an eternity to me.

"Why haven't you said a word?"

His mouth was so close to my ear as he spoke, his breath ghosting over the side of my face… a shudder ran down my spine and I closed my eyes, torn between wanting more and giving in to panic.

"Said what?" I rasped. "That I came on to you in the shower and kissed you? That we almost had sex and that I had to stop you? Just like that."

"It would have been a start," he said, too calm to be comforting.

"A start to what, Randy? Tell me, because I'm at a loss here," I remarked spitefully.

Randy remained quiet and to be honest, I would have been surprised if he'd said a word. It would have meant that he had to explain himself, something he successfully managed to avoid in the past days, so why should he do it now? I had no idea if he was pondering on what to do now or if he didn't think at all this very moment. He did not tighten his hold, nor did he loosen it. He just held me but after a few heartbeats he rested his cheek against my temple, fueling the wish in me to flee from the room.

"Please, let us talk later. _Please_. Let me go…"I whispered, because I didn't trust my voice.

"You always run away, John. Why?" he finally spoke. "Have I ever given you the feeling that you need to run away?"

No, never. Not once and I loved and hated him for being the understanding bastard he was, but it wasn't making anything easier. It did not solve our problems, no matter if was understanding or not. If I ran away or not. I hadn't been running away from the utility room. Or last night from my room. It didn't make a difference if I faced the things or not. It hurt.

People call me an inveterate optimist and cheerful. They say that I have an immense willpower. That I'm strong. Only few people know that I'm by far not as self-confident as it seems but most of the time I try to believe and to live what the public thinks of me, because it's the kind of person I want to be. But in the end I'm only human and the past days had robbed me of all the things I'm said to be. I simply had nothing left I could summon up to brace me for a _talk_ _about us_. Not now.

"I'm scared, okay? I'm fucking scared, Randy, because I… I don't know anymore what to say or to do."

I hated how weak my voice sounded as I said those words but his hold on me relaxed somewhat.

"Okay," he murmured. "It's okay, you hear me? Calm down, we'll work it out somehow. But stop running. We have to talk about it."

"No," I breathed and in a fit of panic I reared up and managed to force his arms apart.

But before I could even take one step, he grabbed my arm, spun me around and swept one of my legs out from under me. I fell and the air was pushed out of my lungs as I hit the floor. In a blink he was above me, half kneeling, half lying on top of me and he braced himself on his forearms, which framed my head. Shocked I tried to catch my breath. His face was hovering close above mine and his eyes stared at me with a piercing glare.

"I said stop running away, John," he said and I couldn't believe that he still sounded so fucking calm.

"Stop that, Randy," I begged.

"No."

Then suddenly something in his eyes shifted and his gaze became distant as if he tried to remember something. And then he lay down on me, lifting one of his hands up to my face. I dared not to move, waiting what would happen next. His fingertips trailed down the side of my face to my neck, lingering there for a moment, while his thumb brushed along my jaw, before continuing their way down, over my collarbone, my shoulder, down my arm until they found my hand and his eyes followed their path all along. His fingers intertwined with mine. I still did not dare to move an inch. After another moment he looked back up to me.

"How did it feel for you? Last night?"

The question was spoken so quietly that I wasn't sure if he had really asked it. But he had. And my mood changed all of a sudden, the panic morphing to anger. How could he be so brazen to ask that?

With a growl I rolled us over until he lay under me, taking him by surprise, and I pinned his hands above his head. After a second he shook his surprise off and dug his heels into the newsprint, lifting his hips to push me off but I used my whole weight to pin him back down on the floor. He started to writhe under me, tried to slip out of my hold somehow, but he failed.

"You want to know how it felt for me?!" I snapped at him. "What do you think how it feels when you hold the one person you love most in this world in your arms and you have to stop it? It hurt, Randy! It fucking hurt, that's how it felt! _Every single_ time and every damn second in between it hurts like hell and every fucking day I wake up and it's even _worse_ than the day before!"

His struggling subsided under the impact of my words until he lay stock-still, staring up to me.

"Don't tell me you don't know what you're doing! You _know_ that I love you! You hurt me, Randy. _You fucking hurt me!_ And I'm sick of hurting and hoping! I'm so sick of _all_ of this!"

I underlined my words by gripping his wrists tighter, pushing them to the hard floor and he winced in pain as I did so. I had to fight down the boiling anger and frustration to prevent myself from hurting him more. For a brief moment I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to calm down.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Johnny…"

His words were only a whisper and thick with guilt.

Keeping my eyes closed while I still tried to calm down, I hissed: "I know. But you _do_ hurt me. Every fucking day and I can't bear it any longer, Randy. I just can't. _So stop toying with me_!"

I heard him taking a deep breath. And a second. It almost sounded like he wanted to hold something back and when I looked at him again. His eyes flicked back and forth, the grey orbs seeming somewhat glassy.

"I'm not toying with you, Johnny," Randy murmured. "Do you hear me? I'm not toying, I…"

His words were like a slap in the face. How could he dare say that? Say that he was _not_ doing it when he _obviously was_?

"You're not toying, Randy? Good," I growled.

Pinning him down with my whole weight I pushed my knees between his legs, forcing them apart until I lay between them and ground my hips against his. His eyes widened, maybe in shock, maybe in panic and he tried to free his wrists, tried to struggle out of my hold, but again he failed. His heart was pounding so hard that I felt it… He was breathing fast and shallow but it was the scared expression that crossed his face that shook me up.

"I'm… I'm sorry," I whispered, shocked about myself, and released his wrists. "I… Maybe it's better if you leave. This isn't working. I'm sorry."

I got up and stepped away from him but he kept lying there, stock-still, staring at me wide-eyed. What had I done?

"I'm sorry," I whispered again and walked out of the room, away from him until I stood in the middle of my living-room.

Taking deep breaths I brushed my hands through my face, feeling queasy. My heart skipped a few beats as I realized what just had happened. I had totally lost it… I had to go back to him to make sure that he was okay… but I couldn't. I couldn't.

_I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…_

It was my fault. I should have stopped this days ago, should have known that it would never work out. I started to shake and leaned against the backrest of the couch for support. Again I took deep breaths to calm down and at least the shaking stopped.

A few moments later I heard quiet footsteps behind me, approaching me slowly and I saw him from the corner of my eye, coming to stop about a step away from me. Although he looked pale I was relieved to see that the scared expression wasn't there anymore but he was tense and I couldn't blame him for it.

"John?" he murmured carefully, strained.

Side gazing him I whispered: "I'm sorry, Randy. I didn't want that, I…"

Randy gave a tiny nod.

"I know. I sorry, too, Johnny" he whispered back. "Can we… please talk about it?"

I shook my head.

"Not now. I can't."

Again a tiny nod.

"Okay, then at least listen for a moment."

He waited a moment, looking pleading at me and now it was my turn to nod. I owed him…

"You said in there that you're scared and that you don't know what to say or to do," he said quietly, a little breathlessly. "I'm scared, too, okay? I'm scared of a lot of things when it comes to you. To us."

Right in this moment the world seemed to stop to give him the time to finally explain himself. It fed the still smoldering spark of hope in me that there was more than just friendship. There had to be more…

_Please…_

He stepped up to me and sent a jolt through my body as he leaned against me. My shoulder touched his chest and with an almost inaudible sigh he rested his forehead against my temple. Carefully he settled his hands on my back and my belly, his fingers feeling hot on my skin, causing goose bumps to flare and for a second I was back at that fateful night when I revealed him my feelings. And even now that maybe, just maybe I would get answers to all my questions, I found myself torn between pushing him away and holding him close and never let go.

There was another sigh and his breath brushed over the side of my face before he continued: "But what scares me most is that someday you could tell me to leave and never come back, that you could hate me. I'm scared to lose you, okay? I don't want to lose my best friend, dammit…"

… _my best friend…_

God, it hurt… the pain that exploded in my chest at his last words. I tried to stifle the sob that escaped my mouth, but I failed and I felt him tug me closer.

"John…" Randy whispered. "I can't lose you. I need you so much… and… there is something I… don't know…"

His voice trailed off and the hand on my belly moved up, cupping my face, urging me to look at him. I turned my head slightly and when he spoke again, his lips brushed mine lightly, the small touch shaking me to the core.

"Just as you are I'm at a loss what to say or to do," he whispered again, sounding so hollow, so lost. "I'm… I'm _not_ toying with you, Johnny."

Reaching up to the hand that cupped my face, I slowly removed it from my face, noticing a certain resistance from Randy, and turned my face away from his. First he followed my movement, not wanting to break the contact, but then he stopped and just looked at me.

"What the hell is _something_, Randy?" I hissed, trying to remain as calm as possible as a sudden unknown emotion tugged at my insides. "You just told me that you don't want to lose your best friend. Are you aware that just a second ago your lips touched mine? That's _not_ something _best friends_ _do_, so you better give me a good answer to what your _something_ is, _Randy_, because if not, I can't help but assume that _you are_ toying with me and believe me, I'm not in _the fucking mood for that shit!_"

Straightening up a little, he tilted his head slightly as he tried to settle his free hand on my face again, but I slapped it away. His arm fell lifeless to his side.

With a voice that begged to believe, heavy, low and pleading, he whispered: "I'm serious, okay_? I'm serious,_ John. _I am not toying with you…_"

His words ignited the ember of the still smoldering anger in me. Sensory and emotional overload would have been the closest thing to call what happened next. Something inside me snapped at his words, setting red haze of anger and frustration free, because I couldn't believe them. The moment where words would have been _enough_ to make me believe was long gone and I realized it. That. Damn. Second.

In one swift and fluid movement I spun around and shoved Randy backwards, away from me. He stumbled back, almost losing his balance in the process and I followed, giving him another shove and he tried to grab my arms, maybe to steady himself or to stop me, but I jerked them away. His eyes were wide open in utter surprise and the scared expression was back on his face, but this time I didn't care.

"You are not toying, yeah?! You're serious, huh?!" I roared while I kept pushing him backwards across the room. "_Let's see how serious you are!_"

Attempting to get out of my way he took a step aside, but I cut his way off, again giving him a shove that he tried to fend off. This time he failed to keep his balance and fell, but in a blink I stood over him, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him up. His hands closed around my wrists, holding onto them.

"John, please, I…" he croaked and I could even _hear_ that he was scared.

Another shove and I yanked my hands free, growling: "Shut _the fuck_ up!"

With one mighty last push I sent him three steps backwards and against the sideboard. He gave a quiet grunt of pain as the back of his thighs collided hard with the edge of the sideboard but again I didn't care, lost in the red haze of anger and frustration that still controlled me. I was right there, in front of him, literally lifting him onto the board, trapping him between my body and the wall.

As I stood between his legs, my hands found his thighs and my fingers dug hard into the thick muscles there, pulling him flush against me. His hands shot up, palms flat against my chest and he tried to push me away, but I locked one arm around his waist while my other hand grabbed his nape and with another growl I crushed our lips together in a brutal kiss, making him gasp in surprise and I took my chance and thrust my tongue into his mouth.

Randy squirmed in my hold, trying hard to free himself by pushing against my chest with all his might, without success. I tightened my hold on his waist to pull him even closer, my hand on his nape holding his head in place as I feasted on his mouth, putting every bit of sadness, fear, anger, frustration and hope into it, every damn fucking emotion that had tortured me in the past days.

And while I did so, his resistance eventually subsided… the pushing against my chest became a pulling as his hands moved to slide to my back and up to my shoulders and then he answered my kiss… I felt warmth spread through me as I realized it and a small sob escaped my throat. The force of my kiss lessened and I dared to pour all the love I felt for him into it.

After a moment one of his hands left its place on my back, travelling between us to brush over my chest, leaving goose bumps in its wake, moving further up to cup my jaw and in response my hold on his waist lessened and my hand found its way under his shirt, my fingers brushing over the soft skin there. He moaned my name quietly against my lips and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.

I broke the kiss, searching his eyes, noticing that we were both breathing fast. Randy's eyes were crystal clear and sharp, the scared expression was gone and the strange sparkle I had come to know so well was back. And there was something else I couldn't name.

Letting go of him, resting my hands on the sideboards, I opened my mouth to say something, maybe that I was sorry… I didn't know it myself, but he placed a finger on my lips and shook his head. Slowly he pulled his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor and all I could do was watch him. His eyes roamed my face and then further down as his hands settled on my chest again. Those grey eyes closed for a brief moment and Randy's hand slid up to my shoulders, down over my arms to take hold of my hands to lay them on his waist.

"Touch me," he whispered almost inaudible and then he leaned in and kissed me, molding his lips against mine in a soft yet needy kiss.

My heart skipped a beat at his words and I wasn't sure anymore if this was reality or a dream. But I didn't care. For once I allowed myself to follow my heart, no matter what the consequences would be. My hands started to roam his back, mapping the muscles there, just like last night and I moaned as I felt soft fingers explore my chest, my back, as one hand settled at the back of my neck to pull me closer.

As Randy's legs circled my waist and locked behind it, I rolled my hips, pushing my groin against his and he groaned as needy as his kiss was and before I knew what I was doing, I lifted him up. His arms locked around my neck and the hold of his legs around my waist tightened as I carried him over to the couch.

Carefully I settled him on the cushion and just then our kiss broke. We were both panting and mesmerized I took in the sight before me. Randy's face was flushed and his lips slightly swollen from the kisses but his eyes… they were burning, sparkling, bright and deep and… begging?

Randy's legs were still locked around my waist, so I settled down, pushing him with into the cushions with my full weight and I couldn't help but kiss him again, sucking hard on his bottom lip and rewarding me with a soft sigh he granted me entrance. Our tongues fought for dominance and gods, his taste was addictive and I wanted more, giving into him.

My hands roamed his body, eliciting small moans and sighs from him and the hold of his legs vanished as they slid down onto the couch, giving me more room. I left his mouth and slid down, kissing my way along his jaw to his neck and he gasped when my tongue found the spot right under his ear. I smiled against his skin and stayed there for a moment, licking and nibbling at that very spot to draw some more of those gasps from him. I rolled my hips, earning a low, rumbling groan from him that went straight to my groin and made me grow hard.

I nuzzled my face against the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, staying like that for a second while Randy's hands smoothed down my chest and my abs, stopping at my jeans for a moment until he began to unfasten them. My breath caught in my throat as he slowly pushed them out of the way and that breath morphed to a groan as his hands grabbed my ass to pull me close, a matching hardness pressing against my hip.

Bracing on my elbows I searched his eyes and they met mine, darkened with arousal, the full-blown pupils leaving only a thin ring of the familiar grey orbs.

After a moment I asked quietly: "Are you sure that you want this?"

Afraid to break whatever spell lay on us I struggled a little to make the words leave my lips but then he bucked his hips against mine, creating a fine friction through the fabric of our clothes as our groins rubbed against each other. We moaned in unison and I took it as a yes.

I leaned forward, pressing my lips against Randy's throat and drew my tongue over the soft skin there, while my fingers trailed down to Randy's jeans, leaving goose bumps in their wake. I felt his muscles under my touch flex, felt him writhe under me. With a smile on my lips I nibbled, licked and kissed my way back to the spot under his ear and sucked at it, while I unfastened his jeans and sat back up on my calves to peel him out of his clothes, tossing them aside. A moment later my jeans and boxers accompanied them.

My hands caressed his legs while I sat between them, taking in the picture as he lay there, panting, flushed, his now fully erected dick twitching in anticipation, the light shiver that ran through his gorgeous body… and I wanted to remember the image it for eternity.

"Johnny…" he breathed and I followed his call, leaning in for another kiss.

It was smooth, slow and full of promises… and I settled back down on him, molding our bodies together and the second our dicks touched he bucked up and I rolled my hips against him in reply, drawing a whine from him, a small, high pitched sound that went straight to my groin, making me even harder.

His arms locked around my neck and I braced myself on one arm, while my free hand smoothed down his lean body to his legs, lifting one up to hook it behind my back for better access. While I kept kissing him I started to thrust against him and he met me, our dicks rubbing against each other, creating a delicate friction. Our movements became a steady rhythm, slow and leisurely in the beginning but after a few minutes it became faster, demanding. For those minutes the room was filled with only our rapid breathing, moans and sharp gasps.

Every single thrust set my body on fire and the burning arousal devoured me, mind and body, flaring, growing with every moan and groan from Randy and I knew I wouldn't last much longer… For a brief moment I stopped kissing him to watch him. Randy's eyes were closed and an expression of pure ecstasy shone on his face and those lush lips were slightly parted, begging me to come back for another kiss. He was so mind-blowing beautiful…

I whispered his name and slowly he opened his eyes, locking them with mine and his gaze was intense yet dazed and those eyes widened as I whispered: "I love you so much, Randy…"

A new sound fell from his lips at my words… it was a tiny sob… and I laid my lips on his to kiss it away. I felt the arousal coil up in my belly and tightening my hold on his leg I thrust down hard, once, twice.

"Let go," I breathed against his lips and Randy groaned in response.

It was a low, throaty groan that vibrated through him, through me, lighting a spark that uncoiled the heat in my belly, setting my whole body on fire and I knew Randy was there with me as I felt his movements become erratic. He moaned my name, drawing me over the edge with it.

After a few more seconds he stilled under my touch but his arms kept holding me close. There was _something_ in his eyes I couldn't name and maybe it was that very something he had been talking about. And maybe it was that something I wanted to hear from him. But right now it was just an unknown, unspoken emotion that lingered there. And then he pulled me down to kiss me and that kiss held promises, just like the promises I had tasted before and I wanted to believe them.

I let go of his leg, wrapped my arm around his waist and rested my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes as he started to caress my back with lazy fingers. A shiver rolled through me at his touch and I nuzzled his neck, earning a content sigh from him that put a smile on my lips.

While we lay there I felt for the first time in days really content and calm. Calm enough that it reached my aching heart and eased the pain. Exhaustion tugged at me and giving into it, I hoped that this wasn't a dream. The last thing I heard was Randy's voice, whispering that it was going to be alright…

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Okay, guys, this is my first AN-footer :-)

As I said before, this was the first part of the finale to this story. Means there is one more part to come. And I'm not gonna give you any spoilers… well, except that the last chapter will be really good and… yeah well, really good, hehehe ;D

It's possible that the last chapter will take a little longer to get finished, because I won't have very much time in the upcoming week. So, sorry for that but I promise to write as fast as possible!

Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter and if so, please tell me what you think! You know, reviews are love! XOXOXO


	15. Awakening

Okay, now here's a surprise. This was supposed to be the last chapter but… well, the boys didn't agree with it. So here we have the, well, second penultimate chapter. Maybe. Uhm. Maybe not. Depends on how John and Randy cooperate. Or not ;D

Means there is at least one more chapter to come. Maybe two. Since my last forecast wasn't correct, I won't say again that this is the penultimate chap. It could be though.

Oh great, now I'm rambling XD

However, maybe it makes you a wee bit happy that there is more to come and I hope you'll like this part!

And please forgive me that it has taken me long to post this, but time isn't on my side lately O.o

And thank you all so much for the many reviews to the last chapter! Reviews are LOVE!

So, Girls and Boys, Ladies and Gentleman: Enjoy!

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Cozy warmth was the first thing I became aware of, accompanied with comfy softness around and under me. Pure contentment filled me. Calmness. Bliss. Wonderful bliss. With something between a sigh and a hum in turned over, wrapping the softness a little tighter around me. Like this I kept floating in my little cocoon for long minutes, drifting slowly, so slowly towards consciousness. And unlike the past days I did not fear to wake up, to be confronted with all those agonizing feelings. Because something had changed.

Something had changed… And it was good. Finally everything would be okay. A smile tugged at my lips. With another sigh I rolled over… and almost fell from the couch. At the last moment I managed to stop my fall by bracing my hand on the floor. Oh right, we fell asleep on the couch after… My smile widened at the memory and a warm feeling tingled in my belly. I crawled back up onto the couch and buried my face in the cushion that smelled so very like Randy and I took a deep breath, inhaling his addictive scent. Wonderful, wonderful bliss. And it would have been perfect bliss if the small space beside me wouldn't have been empty.

So I peeked out from under the blanket and called quietly: "Randy?"

Silence greeted me. Not really wanting to leave my very own Randy-scented cocoon I sat up, the blanket pooling around my waist, and took a look around. Our clothes were gone. I listened into the silence, trying to catch a sound, but there was none.

"Randy!" I called again, this time louder.

Again silence was the answer and I frowned. The bliss vanished and the warm tingle in my belly was replaced by an uneasy feeling coiling up, although I tried to tell myself that I should finally stop to worry, because what had happened had changed everything. Finally… Right? But somehow it didn't work. After a moment of hesitation I got up, glanced at the clock that showed around 6 p.m. and started to walk over to the kitchen. Empty. The utility room. Empty. With a growing unease I made my way upstairs, only to find his room, my room and the bathroom… empty.

_Everything's fine…_ I told myself and in an attempt to distract my worried mind from whatever was going on, I brushed my teeth and decided to take a shower.

The hot water poured down and the rising steam engulfed me, just like the blanket had done before. Leaning forward I braced my arms against the tiled wall and closed my eyes, concentrating on the water that rained down on me. But in only brought back memories… of those moments with him in the shower room, the feeling of Randy's skin under my hand. And good God, it had felt so damn good. But it was nothing, _nothing_ compared to the feeling of Randy writhing under me, moving against me… touching me... I breathed his name, the word being swallowed by the sound of the running shower.

After a while I stepped out of the shower and threw on some clothes, hoping that when I came down, Randy would be there. But he wasn't… So I made a beeline to the kitchen where I had left my cell to text him what the fuck was going on, when I found a note under the small device.

_I'm out for a run. Need some time to think. Will be back soon._

I stared at the note in my hand. I read it again. Then I stared a little more. And then I scrunched it up to nice little ball, throwing it in the main direction of the trash with a growled _fuck_. For a run. He was out for a run because he needed time to think. Great. Just great. No need to worry. No, why should I? Everything was just _dandy_.

My eyes fell on my cell and I grabbed it, starting to type.

_What the fuck, Orton? You could have at least woke me up and said it to my face. Time to think? About what? That it was a mistake?_

I hit the send button and threw the cell onto the kitchen counter, where it landed with an unhealthy clattering and slithered over the surface only to slip over the rim of the sink, landing in it with an equally unhealthy thud. I closed my eyes and shook my head softly.

_Breathe in… breathe out… God damn, John, calm down, you're overreacting here,_ I told myself as I leaned against the counter.

Yeah, maybe I was just overreacting and I guess it was owed to the fact that my nerves and emotions were worn so incredibly thin due to the past days and weeks. Maybe it was because I was simply tired of the constant back and forth between us. Even now, after I've had him moan my name only hours ago. Now, when I thought that he was feeling the same…

A beeping from out the sink indicated that the cell still worked and I reached into the sink and flipped the cell open. A message from Randy. I wiped a hand down my face and hit the read button.

_You needed rest and I needed to think, that's why I didn't wake you. I'll be there in about 30 minutes. Let's talk when I'm back, okay? And please, John, stop worrying._

Stop worrying. I huffed. Yeah, wait, let me just push the stop button, it has to be somewhere on my body…

Maybe… maybe he was right and a little time to think was a good idea… a little time and a little distance. Out of these rooms, for a day or two… I ran my thumb over the keys of the cell and while I did that, an idea popped up in my head and I scrolled through the stored numbers, looking for a special name and hit dial.

Shortly after my call was answered and although I suddenly wasn't sure anymore if it was a good idea, I replied: "Hey, Stephen. Listen, uhm… I need your help. Can I crash on your couch tonight?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Stephen asked in a worry laced voice: "What's wrong, fella?"

About ten minutes later I sat in my car on my way to Stephen's place, a bag with a few things beside me, hoping that this little time-out would help me to get back on my feet. I was glad that he hadn't asked further questions after I'd told him that I needed a place to stay for one night after a fight with Randy. A white lie, but telling him the whole story wasn't an option. I glanced at my watch and thought that Randy would be back in around twenty minutes and that it wouldn't take long until he would call… after finding the note I had left him…

_Hey, Randy. Maybe you're right and a little time to think is a good idea, so I'm already on my way to a friend if you read this note. A time-out will be good for both of us. See you tomorrow at the company. Then we can talk. If you've come to terms with yourself. _

The ride to Stephen's place went by in a blur, mostly because my mind was everywhere else than focused on the road and I tried hard not to think too much about Randy and what he might have needed to think about. An impossible thing to do. And in addition my whole body screamed to drive back home and kiss him senseless but I didn't and although he'd said that I should stop worrying… I didn't know if I would be allowed to kiss him ever again.

Just when I turned into Stephen's drive, my cell started to ring and I wasn't surprised to see Randy's ID on the screen. Taking a few deep breaths did my best to stay calm and answered the call.

"Hey, Randy. I guess you found my note?"

"John, where are you? Please come back home. _Please_."

To my sincere surprise there was fear tingeing his voice, but it could mean everything and nothing. We had that before. Still it made me feel bad for being the cause of it, but on the other hand… it probably wasn't a bad thing that he was in my stead for once and felt how it was to wait.

"No, Randy, not tonight. I guess I need some time for myself, too," I replied, successfully keeping my voice calm as I did so, although it was hard. "And I don't want to discuss things on the phone, so let's talk tomorrow, okay? Listen, I've gotta end the call. See you at the company."

I heard him call my name but it was cut off when I ended the call and even though I felt like an ass for cutting him off just like that… I was relieved that he couldn't hold me back, like he'd done so often before. Just a few seconds later my cell started to ring again. Randy. Sitting there, staring at the blinking screen, I didn't answer the call.

"Don't yer wanna answer it?"

The sudden voice with that unmistakable accent right beside my ear startled me out of my thoughts. Stephen leaned against my car, gazing at me in question. His face showed fine lines of worry. I shrugged my shoulders and sighed.

"Yes and no."

Putting the still ringing cell into my pocket, I grabbed the bag beside me and attempted to get out of the car, but Stephen blocked my way.

"Yer sure yer doin' tha right thing, fella?"

"No, I'm not," I answered truthfully and pushed against the car door to make him get out of the way.

The lines of worry deepened, but he stepped aside, motioning me to follow him. A few minutes later I sat on the bed in his guest room, staring at the closed door while my cell was ringing again. When it fell silent again, I could hear faint sounds coming from outside the room. Stephen, preparing something to eat for me and I was grateful that I could stay here for a while.

While I sat here, in the quiet room on a comfortable bed, being away from the source of my worries, I suddenly felt incredibly tired and exhausted and with a low groan I let myself fall backwards onto the bed, lying there spread-eagled. For the third time the cell started to ring and for a short moment I was tempted to answer it. But then it stopped and a moment later I heard a beep. A short message. Before I could ring a fourth time I got up to go out to Stephen, but on my way I took a glance at the short message that showed only two words.

_Johnny, please._

Letting it drop back into my bag, I left the room and found Stephen in the kitchen, where I sat down at the table with a heavy sigh. He placed a beer and a plateful of pasta with tomato sauce in front of me, reminding me painfully of the night Randy had made his magic tomato sauce. Grabbing the beer, I took a nice sip and sighed again and when I looked up, I saw Stephen sitting on the opposite side, looking at me with a thoughtful expression and I focused back on the pasta.

"Okay, John. It wasn't just a simple fight, was it?" he asked quietly after a moment. "Otherwise yer wouldn't stay away for a night."

Slight worry was lacing his voice as he crossed his arms over the broad chest. I paused.

"Don't know what you're getting at," I said and bit my tongue for the second white lie I was about to tell him within this short time. "You know that Randy has moved in temporarily and just like I said, we had a fight. Things like that happen."

"Well then, why aren't yer kicking him out? It's yer house, isn't it?"

I could hear how an inquiring tone added to the worry.

"He has no other place to go, Stephen."

He cocked an eyebrow and I knew he wasn't buying it.

"No other place, huh? Hotels, John?"

I placed the fork beside the plate and leaned back, rubbing my eyes while murmuring: "No, I don't really want him to go. It'll be fine, we just need a little time-out, that's all."

There was a low chuckle coming from him and I would have preferred the worry instead.

"Marital crisis, huh?" he asked and chuckled a little more.

"Very funny, Farrelly," I muttered and continued to eat.

Stephen was coming much too close to the root of the matter for my taste and I didn't want him to get the idea that he was right just because I was way too tired to make sure he wouldn't find a hint written on my face.

"Yer don't want yer boyfriend to go," he added with pursed lips. "Sweet."

"Stephen, cut it out, okay?" I snapped at him, hoping that he would let the subject drop, but I felt bad the second the words left my lips. "Sorry, I didn't want to snap. I guess I'm just tired…"

The chuckling subsided. He cleared his throat and when he spoke, his voice was serious again.

"John, listen… yer don't need to pretend, okay? I know yer have a thing for Randy."

Like I said, I was way too tired to make sure he wouldn't get a hint and _those_ words caught me off-guard. I froze, the fork mid-air, eyes fixed on the plate. I didn't want to, but it was already too late. And that alone was enough evidence to prove Stephen that he was right. No need to confirm it, let alone deny it. A chill ran down my spine and my heart sank…

_Can't this shit finally have an end? _

Eventually I was able to move again. The fork sank back down to the plate and I looked up to him, doing my best to blank my face and brace against whatever was about to come. The thoughtful expression was back on his face and his brows were furrowed, but despite this I couldn't read what was on his mind. Stephen's lips were tightened to a thin line and one corner of his mouth was slightly crooked.

"Okay, I guess it doesn't make sense to deny it. Yeah, I have a thing for Randy," I admitted and hoped I could make this interlude be a short one by doing so. "Now what?"

The furrowed brows relaxed while he leaned forward, bracing his arms on the table.

"Now nothing, John. Yer have a thing for Randy and tha's absolutely fine for me." His voice was soft and warm. "I just wanted to let yer know tha yer don't need to hide it from me and tha I'm there for yer if yer need someone to talk."

I knew Stephen long enough to know that he was an honest soul and _trust me_ was written all over his face. This had been the first time ever I told someone else than Randy about my feelings and, truth to be told, I was somewhat relieved about that there was someone to talk with about my problems. Breathing out audibly, I closed my eyes and felt relief and peace settled over me, easing my inner turmoil a bit.

And it reminded me again how grateful I was that I could stay here for a while. Stephen was a cheerful man who was trying to keep things simple, he was a good listener and kept secrets to himself. And we had been friend for a while now, good friends. Just like Stephen and Randy. So if there was anyone out there whom I could tell all this… who else but him? Yeah, who else but him… I reached out for my beer, took another sip a sat it back on the table, keeping my fingers closed around the bottle.

"It was only a crush in the beginning," I murmured, fixing my eyes on the beer in my hand. "But then… it went out of hand, somehow. Suddenly I realized that I am in love with him and Randy… he was always so caring, worrying, even risking his marriage just to be there for me."

I paused, fiddling with the bottle in my hand.

"And then he decided to leave Sam and I wanted him to go back to her and told him that I love him… and he only said that he already knew it. And that it was okay for him. After that he moved in and the back and forth began."

The old pain flared up with the memories and I gritted my teeth in a vain attempt to fight it down. For a brief moment I looked up at Stephen and saw a quite surprised expression plastered to his face.

"But, yer know, when I watch the two of yer it always it gives me tha impression like yer are an item. So, is it a one-sided thing or…?"

"Honestly? I'm not sure. So many things happened in the past days and… sometimes it seemed that he feels the same way and sometimes… sometimes it felt like he was just living with it because we're friends. And then, today I… he pushed me to a point where I snapped and I kissed him and we…," I explained weakly, but decided to leave the details out. "I thought that he feels the same. I hoped it so very much. And then I wake up and he's gone, leaving a note behind that he's out for a run _because he needs to think_. There were too many moments where it seemed that he might love me and in the end he pushed me away."

"So yer think he does not return yerr feelings and tha's why he needed to think about it?"

Shrugging my shoulders I replied quietly: "There's a chance that he'll tell me that it was a mistake and maybe he'll tell me that he loves me. I don't know. I really don't, but this note was like the last straw and that's why I'm here. I guess I need a little time to come down."

I heard the sound of a chair being pushed back and a blink later he squatted down beside me, laying a hand on my arm.

"John, what I know is tha when it comes to yer, Randy's gonna do anything, believe me. And I think tha if he wouldn't return yer feelings, he wouldn't have let yer… _tha close_," Stephen murmured soothing. "Maybe he was just unable to cope with his own feelings? I guess yer know tha it's hard to realize tha yer love yer best friend, don't yer?"

My eyes swept from the beer to the big hand on my arm that was ridiculously white against my skin. But the touch was calming and I settled my free hand over his, giving it a light squeeze.

"Yeah, maybe you're right. It all was just a little… too much I guess. Thanks, Stephen, I'm glad and grateful to have a friend like you," I whispered and could hear the exhaustion I felt lace my voice.

"Anytime, fella," he whispered back. "Anytime."

After that we moved over to his living-room and talked a little more. Well, I talked and he listened. Every once in a while he asked something or told me his opinion about it and over our conversation I started to feel like there was a real chance that Randy would tell me that he loved me. _Really_ loved me. But on the other hand I felt anger settle in the pit of my stomach. I knew that it wasn't easy to cope with this kind of feelings, but even if… it wasn't an excuse to act like Randy had done. He had played with me and that wasn't okay. And it wasn't okay to go out for a run to think and just leave a note after we had just had sex. It had been sex, damn it. He should have known that after all the shit I would have to think what I did think when I found that fucking piece of paper. That he might feel that it had been a mistake. He gave me a fucking slap to the face with it.

And back were all those feelings which I thought where finally a thing of the past, those feelings that had tortured me all those days, but at least the exhaustion dimmed them a bit.

Still… I missed him so much…

Around midnight I was so damn tired that I had a hard time to keep my eyes open and Stephen shooed me to the guest room, where I collapsed onto the bed. Despite the disappointment and sadness, the pain and the anger I had felt and was still feeling after this fucking note, I felt at ease in a way and I needed to keep in mind to thank Stephen, really really thank him.

Tomorrow would be the last chance. I knew it and I hoped Randy knew it, too. We had to face it, if we wanted or not.

The last thing I knew was that I whispered Randy's name and while I slipped into blissful darkness, there was a gentle hand that brushed over my hair…

x

The next morning came quite fast and waking up to it when everything came crashing down on me wasn't very blissful. Although it had become kind of a routine to have an unbearable turmoil of agonizing, disappointing, upsetting, numbing and whatever kind of feelings waiting for me to gain consciousness, I simply couldn't get used to it. It hit me full force. Every. Fucking. Single. Time.

After a few moments of blinking me fully awake, I noticed that my pillow was damp and I reached up to my face, only to find… tears there. I tried to wipe them away, but it was of no avail. They were still falling. Huffing a mirthless laugh I tried again to wipe them away, but it seemed that for every tear I wiped away, two tears followed. This wasn't fair. I curled up to a ball, a tiny sob on my lips, and pulled the blanket over my head.

For endless minutes I stayed hidden under the blanket, silently weeping, not able to stop the crying. I was so lost in my misery, that I didn't even notice Stephen coming in. Only when he sat down and the mattress dipped under his weight, I realized that he was in the room. His hand settled on my back, rubbing calming circles.

"John? Yer need to get up, fella. If yer stay in there it's gonna drag yer down even more."

His voice was soothing and I knew he was right, but somehow I couldn't move. Stephen waited a moment and then I heard him murmur my name. Another moment later the blanket was pulled away from me, revealing the heap of misery I was to him and just like the night before at his kitchen table, his brows were furrowed and his lips were tightened to a thin line with one corner of his mouth slightly crooked.

"Don't look at me like that," I muttered, but it came out more like a sob and I cursed my weakness.

In addition he cocked his head slightly and pulled a drawer of the bed table open, fumbling in it and produced a tissue. And then he started to dab the tears away.

"I'm not a child, Farrelly," I muttered once more, although it felt good to have him taking care like he did.

"No, yer not. But even a grown man can have weak moments and tha's okay. Come on, let's get yer on yer feet, John-Boy."

I didn't want to but he kept urging me to finally crawl out of the bed and after hitting the shower and having a little breakfast, we were late anyway. So after that we jumped in our respective cars and headed for the company.

Randy and I were scheduled for a match against each other and the moment I stepped into the building, nervousness reared up. There was no sign of Randy on my way to my locker, so I got myself warm and ready for the match. Randy didn't show up at my door and someway I did not want to show up at his. Maybe it would be better to talk after the match. But all the while my nervousness grew.

When I came out of my locker, my nervousness had reached its peak and while I walked along the corridor, my eyes searched for a sign of him because, God help me, as angry as I was… I fucking missed him and even though I knew that there was a chance that he'd decided that the day before had been a mistake… I still hoped that he would say the words.

I rounded a corner… and froze. There was Randy and he wasn't alone. My heart sank when I saw… _her_. Sam, and Alanna was with her and Randy was chatting with Sam and he was smiling. They hadn't noticed me yet and while I stood there, staring at the version of a wonderful family-portrait, I couldn't believe what I saw. It didn't even hurt anymore. I was _far_ _beyond_ hurting.

Eventually I managed to move my feet, willing them to carry me somewhere else, away from here, from them. It was the light voice of Alanna that made me freeze again. With laughter in her voice she called my name and I heard her run towards me. For a brief moment I had to close my eyes, trying so very hard to gain some composure back because if Alanna was running towards me, Randy and Sam would follow her. Swallowing hard I turned around and pulled up the sunniest smile I could muster that very moment.

"Hey, Alanna! How are you doing, little angel?" I greeted her and squatted down to avoid Randy's eyes.

She squeaked something and jumped right into my arms, hugging me tightly. She _was_ an angel and there were times I wondered how such a sweet honey could be the daughter of such a… woman. And there was no need to look at Sam to know that she was glaring at me.

"John?"

The low rumble of Randy's voice made me freeze for the third time within minutes and when Alanna insistently ordered me to lift her up, I had to get up, no matter if I wanted or not. I felt my body go numb the second my eyes met his. They were sharp and deep, unreadable. The muscles of his jaw twitched but his face was blank. And pale.

I held his gaze and simply replied in a tone as blank as his face: "Randy?"

Something in his eyes shifted, a new expression shone in them, but I couldn't name it.

It was Alanna who distracted us as she piped in: "Daddy, when do you come back?"

It was such an innocent question. The answer however… the answer would either be devastating for Sam and Alanna… or me. My eyes swept back to his, daring him to finally say it. Whatever _it_ was. He paled even more as his eyes flicked back and forth between me and Alanna and Sam. He didn't answer the question, a thing he was really good at. No, it was Sam who answered it.

"Soon, honey," she said in a sickly sweet voice and from the corner of my eye I saw her glare at me again, before she grabbed the collar of Randy's shirt and pulled him down.

She kissed him. And maybe it was a good thing that I had passed the point of hurting already. I felt nothing. Nothing. When Sam let go of his shirt, there was a spiteful grin on her face. Randy however… did nothing. His face as blank as before as he kept standing there without a word.

I shifted the little girl on my arms a bit and looked at her, my fake sunny smile perfectly fine in place as I said: "Hey, angel, did you hear that? Daddy's coming home. Now go and hug him, show him how happy you are!"

With those words I lifted her over to her father.

"Don't forget the match, Orton."

I kept my voice neutral. This shit wasn't Alanna's fault and I didn't want her to notice that something was badly wrong here. Turning away from them I made my way to the entrance area. I heard him call my name but I didn't turn around. My feet carried me further away, steadily towards the entrance area where I came to a halt.

Nothing. I still felt nothing and for a long minute I just stood there beside the entrance, my eyes fixed on a random spot on the floor. That was until I heard someone walk up behind me and I knew who it was even before I turned around. I did turn around though, slowly.

"John, please, we need to talk about it," Randy said hushed and stepped close up to me, reaching out to lay a hand on my shoulder.

"I don't think so, Orton," I hissed and shoved him away from me, surprising him by doing so and he stumbled a few steps backwards.

We stared at each other and again something shifted in his eyes. This time I knew the new expression. It was sadness. I huffed.

"John, _please_…"

His voice was pleading. This, too, was nothing new. I took a step back and wished I could at least be as angry as I should be.

"I'm done talking," I muttered. "I'm sick and tired. So, save it, Orton."

Randy opened his mouth to say something, but that very second my music hit and without another glance back I ran out, hoping this match would be over soon. After a short while Randy's music hit and he walked down the ramp slowly, just like always. Maybe I was the only person around who saw the difference in the way he walked. It wasn't the assessing way he used to show, but a faltering kind of movement and when he finally climbed into the ring, his eyes stayed fixed on me, the sadness still shining in them. He even forgot to pull his Adonis pose.

The match went comparatively smooth and to my relief time was running fast. For tonight Randy was the planned winner and eventually we reached the point of his initiating moves. The RKO hit and a blink later he was above me, pinning me to the canvas. The hall cheered as the referee started his three-count. Randy's face was close to mine, but I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath. In my mind I counted with the referee. One. Two. And then…

"_I love you, John._"

Three.


	16. Take my hand

Dear readers, I'm happy to say that this… is not the last chapter. Nope.

I was almost expecting it. Our boys just won't agree with ending this story. Tsktsktsk.

Well, I guess you don't mind getting more of this story? ;D

Okay, I already wrote it in the A/N to part 15 and doing it again: there is at least one more part to come, guys!

And now, since I'm not so very tired that I threaten to end up with my face on the keys:

JerichoholicAnonymus and poisenousprincess: Thank you so much for the compliments! And yes, maybe I tried to kill you… a little bit, but only a little bit… not completely. I want you to come back for more XD

BrightAsNight: Hey there, faithful soul! That I still manage to tug at your feelings after so many chaps makes me proud! *dances around*

Alonia187: Yup, up down back forth and back again. And maybe a little forth… Roller coaster is almost an understatement ;-) Glad you liked this one, too! Always happy to see you dropped by!

pockybear2323: From -_- to O_O , huh? *lolz* Well, that image in my head made me laugh ;D *hehehe* I'm so happy you like it and I'm glad that I managed to keep my readers interest in this story up through the whole story. I'm always anxious if you guys like what I'm posting, so… *VERYhappy* XD

TerryHennings: You did that? Oh my! … now I'm at a loss what to say, wow… O.o Well, except: thank you so much, I'm honored! Hope you like this chap, too!

LegacyChick: Oh yeah, they really do need to… and then hop right into bed ;P

Jik Hyun and john cena good gurl: *hands hankies* ;D

RKOIsMyJam: Nope, not over, not yet. Let's see how much longer the boys wanna take this one…

AeriaGloriis: Thank you! So glad you like it!

Living on the EDGE: He IS a little slow sometimes, isn't he? ;-)

jnelly21: Glad you liked it :D

Vindictive John Dark Fantasy: Yup, took him a while though… tsktsktsk. Let's see where this is going for John, huh? ;-)

And thanks to everyone else who reads my stuf!

Enjooooy XD

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

My eyes flew wide open and I was blinded by the glaring white light of the floodlight above me... The cheers faded into the background… Faintly I registered that Randy's weight on me vanished… And my heart skipped a few beats and set for a stumbling rhythm as I lay there, paralyzed, numb. Blinking once, slowly, I tried to understand what had just happened.

_I love you, John._

I mouthed the words. There was no way he'd said them. My mind refused to _believe_ that he'd said them, here in the middle of the ring, in front of millions of people… after all that time, after _Sam_… Closing my eyes I groaned as a sudden pain seared through me and I rolled onto my side, biting back tears that stung in my eyes. Not now, I couldn't cry like a little child now, not in the middle of the ring. My breathing started to become harsh and fast as I fought with myself.

_I love you, John._

_Liar,_ my mind screamed.

A hand settled on my back and the referee asked me if I needed a medic. I shook my head slightly no, willing myself to get a grip, trying to regain my composure, because I knew that I had to get out of the arena as fast as possible before I would lose it completely. So I pushed myself up, coming to stand on shaky legs as a wave of dizziness rolled through me and I more or less fell against the ropes, holding onto them. And I looked up, looked at Randy who stood in the middle of the ring, close to where I had been lying and his whole body was tense, fingers flexing, picture-perfectly intimidating as he stood there. His eyes were fixed on me, narrowed, but… there was still that sad expression shining in them.

A perfect show for the audience. The absurdity of this thought almost made me laugh. This was _real_ _life_, _my_ life and _Randy's_ life, and it was a perfect _show_ for millions of people. Again I closed my eyes for a heartbeat as I felt sickness rise, adding to the dizziness and with a choked sob I hung my head, breathing deeply.

_And please, John, stop worrying._

_Liar._

I was so damn sick of that back and forth, yes, no, maybe, of being hurt, pushed away and held back and pushed away again. So damn sick…

When the dizziness and sickness subsided a bit, I got out of the ring without another look at Randy and walked slowly towards the ramp, still fighting with myself to keep up appearances somehow, at least until I was back in my locker room. The rising cheers told me that he was celebrating his win. I didn't look back. Only when I reached the ramp, I stopped and after a brief moment I turned back to the ring, my eyes searching his. Randy stood in the middle of the ring again, breathing fast and shallow and his face was a tense mask.

_Daddy, when do you come back? … Soon, honey._

Alanna's and Sam's words echoed through my mind, the image of the kiss flashed up and with it the searing pain was back.

_I love you, John._

I couldn't believe his words, I just couldn't and as if he'd read my thoughts, I saw him nod once ever so slightly, an almost not observable movement. And maybe I was just imagining it. Maybe I wished it… After another moment I turned away from him, hot tears burning in my eyes again.

Without gazing left or right I walked through the backstage area, like in a trance… swaying a bit in my steps. Someone fell into step beside me. Stephen. He didn't say a word but I felt his hand settle on my lower back, reassuring, steadying and he just kept walking beside me until we reached my locker room. I walked into the room and I noticed Stephen's touch vanish. Stopping in the middle of the room, I closed my eyes and tried to take a deep breath, but the lingering pain made it hard to breathe at all. The dizziness came back full force. My knees buckled and with a gasp I sank to the floor, sitting there hunched over, burying my face in my hands. I flinched when a hand settled on my shoulder.

"Calm down, John, will yer?" Stephen murmured, kneeling right beside me.

When I didn't answer because I simply couldn't, the hand on my shoulder moved to my hands, pulling them away from my face.

"What happened out there?" he asked, still holding my hands and with a light squeeze he urged me to look at him.

I did look at him and was greeted by the well-known worried expression on his face as I whispered: "He said that he loves me…"

Stephen blinked a few times before his face lightened up.

"Oh, hey, tha's great!" he said happily, but then his face fell. "But if he said tha he's loving yer, why are yer…?"

I hung my head again.

"Sam kissed him," I replied weakly.

A pause followed before he asked: "What? When?"

"A few minutes before the match. She was there with Alanna and Alanna wanted to know when Randy will come back," I explained, my voice unsteady. "Sam said that he will come back soon and then she kissed him…"

Another pause. Stephen's hold on my hand tightened a bit.

"She kissed him," he murmured. "Randy did _not_ kiss _her_? Well, tha's good, isn't it?"

Shaking my head softly I said: "I don't know. It was Sam, not Randy who answered Alanna's question and he did _nothing_ to stop Sam. I… I can't believe his words… I don't know what to think anymore, Stephen. And I know that I'm overreacting but I can't stop myself… Fucking shit, I can't stop…"

Stephen's hands vanished only to settle on the sides of my face a heartbeat later, making me look up to him again. There was a small and reassuring smile on his lips and with a compassionate sigh he brushed a hand over my hair.

"Yer worn out and tha's okay after all tha shit. But yer need to talk to him," he said softly. "This is Randy, yer Randy and yer love him. Give him a chance to explain himself, okay?"

His hand brushed over my hair again and just as it settled on my nape, the door jumped open audibly. I flinched and held my breath, but Stephen gave me a small shake and mouthed _breathe_. I did, although it wasn't easy. Then he got up and walked towards the door where he obviously stopped.

"I've got about ten minutes left until my match. Gonna wait for a while outside and make sure no one disturbs yer two. But you should lock the door, just in case," he murmured and I heard Randy mutter a quiet _thanks_.

Stephen left the room and behind him fell the door shut and that small sound seemed to be unnaturally loud in the now silent room. I didn't turn around nor did I move in any other way. I just kept sitting in silence, waiting for what was about to come. Whatever it was…

After torturing long seconds I heard footsteps coming towards me and I braced myself, clinging to the thought that I needed to stay calm. But then the footsteps stopped behind me, followed by a quiet rustling. A blink later I felt a light touch on my back and realized that Randy had sat down behind me, his back leaning against mine. For a moment or two we stayed like this, sitting in silence and I welcomed the feeling of his skin against mine, but I was glad that I didn't have to face him right now… somehow…

"Hey. I… I came to talk to my best friend," he said quietly, his voice careful and maybe a little afraid, but so infinitely tender. "You know, that man who always listens to me, no matter how much I screwed things up. And that's all I'm asking for. Just… just listen, okay? Please?"

I swallowed hard at his words, knowing that I should let him explain but I couldn't, not yet, because there were questions I needed to ask first and so I whispered: "You know, it's not easy not to worry when I wake up and you're gone after what happened yesterday. You leave note that you need to think and I couldn't help but… feel that you might think it all was a mistake. And today I find you chatting and smiling with Sam just like nothing ever happened. Why didn't you answer Alanna's question? And why did you let Sam kiss you?"

There was a movement against my back as he shifted a little, carefully leaning a bit more against me with a heavy sigh.

"When I wrote you to stop worrying, I meant it, Johnny. I never thought what happened was a mistake, not for one second. And Sam… you wouldn't listen to me when I tried to explain everything…"

I huffed and wiped a hand down my face. Why did things have to be so fucking complicated between us lately. It had never been in the past and I wished it could be like that again, just Randy and me, knowing that there were no secrets between us, knowing that whatever happened the other would there. Knowing that whatever had to be said, it just could be spilled without causing a disaster.

"Yeah, I know… and I know that I overreacted when I found that note and when I saw you with Sam, but… it's just… I couldn't stop myself and… I'm exhausted, Randy. I'm tired and I don't know what to think anymore. It hurts. It fucking hurts."

"I know and I'm so sorry," he said quietly. "And I know that I should have answered Alanna's question. But she's my little girl and I didn't want to make her cry, John. Not her. And before I knew what to say, Sam opened her damn mouth and when she kissed me… I didn't want that. God good, I wanted to push her away and tell her to fuck off, but I couldn't, not with Alanna being there. Then you walked away and all I could think of was to follow you, explain it to you. And when you wouldn't let me I started to panic. God, John, since I found the house empty yesterday after coming home I'm scared. Scared that I might lose you. I couldn't bear a life without you…"

The last words were so clear yet faint, heavy and full of sorrow that I had to close my eyes for a second. Maybe I should just have stayed at home, waiting for what he had to tell me. It could have spared us both a night full of anguish.

_Yer sure yer doin' tha right thing, fella? … No, I'm not._

In an attempt to blank out Stephen's voice in my head I asked a question that still wanted to be asked: "Why in the ring, Randy?"

I heard him swallow hard and then he cleared his throat, before he replied slowly: "Because in there you had no other chance than to finally listen to me."

Randy did his best to keep his voice steady, but his words were faltering and I wanted to take him in my arms and hold him.

"So you love me, huh?" I whispered eventually, still not quite able to comprehend all of this, that this was real.

"Yeah, I do, John-John. So much it frightens me," he whispered back and from the corner of my eye I saw his hand move sideways, then stopping to rest on the floor within my reach.

Gingerly I mirrored his movement, settling my hand on his, intertwining our fingers and his hold on mine tightened immediately as if he was afraid that I could vanish. I heard him take a shaky breath.

"Since when?" I asked quietly.

A sigh. Strained, guilty. Rueful.

"I guess… I guess there was already something before I found out about your feelings for me. Something, somehow. I just wasn't aware of it and when I realized there is more than just friendship on your side, I felt like… I don't know, I wanted to be as close to you as possible. I couldn't lose that. You. I… it made me feel good… special. And I kinda… wanted it. Gods, I don't know how to explain that…" Randy said slowly, sounding as if he was far away, lost in his thoughts. "But at this point I still wasn't aware that I felt more for you. And when I sat in that hotel room, thinking about my life and Sam…"

Randy paused and his hold on my fingers became even tighter. I waited for him to continue, allowing myself to lean my head back against his shoulder and with another sigh, this time soft and relieved, he rested his cheek against the top of my head. My sad little heart jumped a bit at the closeness, although we had been closer before. Even the tiniest of touches from him could do this to me and every time I felt warmth uncoil in my belly, just like this very moment.

"All I could think of back then was to leave Sam and get to you as fast as possible. I saw my life with you, not with her." He laughed a bitter laugh and continued: "And I _still_ didn't get that moment that there was _more_. I thought… I don't know, that it is friendship. God, I was so blind… When I moved in with you that need to be close to you became stronger every fucking day. The worst thing was that I knew I was hurting you, but I just couldn't stop. And I had no idea what was wrong with me. There were moments… when you found me in the utility room or… back in the shower at the company. Or after you picked me up from the pub… the… lines… blurred and I… had no idea what I was doing or why. It was the reason for that back and forth I put you through. To find out what I was feeling. But then again I was terrified over this… me and that I couldn't control myself, what I was feeling. It almost killed me that I was the reason for your pain when all I wanted was to make you feel good and safe. And yesterday in the utility room, when my memory came back, that moment was the first time it _really_ dawned on me what was going on."

Taking a deep breath he paused again and for a few moments the room fell silent. I realized that I was holding my breath and let the air in my lungs escape in a silent sigh. Closing my eyes I willed the tension I was feeling since I found that note to vanish, willed the lingering pain and all those bad feelings to finally go and never come back. There was no more reason for them to stay at my side… Because this was Randy, my Randy who finally spoke to me, revealing what was going on in his heart…

"What made you sure about it?" I asked quietly.

"It was your kiss, John-John. It was your kiss." His voice was taking on a low, velvety rumble but quivering with emotions underneath as he spoke. "First your reaction scared the shit out of me. I've never seen you like this before… and when you kissed me… I didn't expect that and I was shocked but then I… understood. Suddenly I realized that I love you and that I have loved you all the time before. I don't regret anything, Johnny, not the kiss or what happened on the couch. But when I woke up I lay there with you in my arms, knowing that it was exactly what I wanted, what I had wanted all the time and I was scared… Maybe it was a little like running away from the situation, but I needed to get out for a while to get my head straight. And while I was away from you for that short time it hurt not having you close and that was the moment I understood why it had taken me so long to see what was going on. What I feel for you goes far beyond anything I've ever felt before for another person. I've never loved Sam as much as I love you… I just didn't see what it was…"

I felt his shoulders move slightly from the soft laughing that fell from his lips.

"God, that sounds so fucking sappy…" he muttered then, nuzzling his cheek against my hair.

Silence fell once more. It was a good silence, a light one that did not speak of tension but of relief. Focusing on his skin on mine, on his touch and his breathing I let myself fall into his presence, the closeness and while I fell, I felt free, felt the pain fade and the bad feelings die away. And all the weight dropped from my shoulders, giving way to a light and peaceful feeling.

"I could get used to sappy," I murmured, still falling and I knew… this time he would be there to catch me. "Listen, I'm sorry that I overreacted, yesterday and after I saw you with Sam. I… I just was so fucking afraid to lose you or... that I have lost you already…"

Again he nuzzled his cheek against my hair and sighed my name. And in this moment I thought that if we had just talked… like we had always done before all this had happened… when we both would just have spilled what had been on our minds and hearts… maybe this wouldn't have happened. All of this and that we could already have been living our happily ever after.

"It's okay. I understand why. I've just been afraid that I wouldn't get a chance to explain it to you and that you would send me away for good. You know, I really thought that was it when you didn't answer my calls," he murmured back, sadness lacing his voice and he gave my hand a gentle tug. "What now, Johnny? Is there an… us?"

The words Randy had been saying to me back then in my room returned to me, bringing a tiny smile to my lips. He'd been so right…

"It has always been an us, Randy," I breathed and felt him sag a little against me as if a heavy weight had been lifted off of him, too.

Gently pulling Randy's hand towards me, I silently begged him to follow and he did, scooting around to me and I pulled him further until he was straddling my legs. An insecure expression crossed his face, yet he looked so very relieved, as relieved as I felt and for the first time I saw it, shining, sparkling in his beautiful eyes.

Love.

My hands found their way to his waist, feeling the warm and soft skin and the goose bumps that flared under my touch. For a brief moment those grey orbs closed as my fingertips trailed over his sides and when they opened again, they were _deep_. This… was real. _He_ was real and he was _mine_. Warmth filled my chest, spreading throughout my whole body and I took a shuddering breath. _Randy was mine._

"Say it again," I whispered, desperate to hear it.

Randy leaned in and rested his forehead against mine, cupping my face with tender hands.

"I love you, John," he whispered back and in the pure need to feel him, I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him closer.

"Again," I begged.

Tilting his head slightly, bringing his lips close to mine he replied: "I love you."

I felt his lips move against mine in a feather light touch that left a tingle behind, the need for more and with a sigh I pulled him even closer against me until there was no more space between us.

"Again…"

"I love you, Johnny," he whispered, his breath hot on my skin. "I love you. _I love you so much…_"

And then he kissed me.

_Finally…_

Maybe it wouldn't have been surprising if it had been a rough kiss after all the frustration we both had endured, but it wasn't. It was a soft kiss, only a touch of lips. And a second one. I stretched up to him and closed the distance for a third kiss and I felt his tongue against my lips, running over them, asking for entrance which I granted. And we were falling into a lazy and deep kiss, all gentle pressure and slow swipes of tongues, a loving, worshipping kiss that made me forget how to breathe. There was a content sigh building up deep within my chest but it got stuck and morphed into a shuddering moan as Randy tried to move even closer, slightly rolling his hips, pressing his groin against mine.

When Randy pulled away, as breathless as I was, I found his eyes glazed and darkened. And then he rolled his hips again and merging into my low moan, there was a deliciously wanton sound escaping his beautiful lips, fueling my need for more. I raised a hand and brought it to the side of Randy's face, cupping his cheek and he turned his face into my touch, closing his eyes. Gently I let my thumb sweep over the arc of his jaw and hours of stubble made an unbearably soft sound against the pad of my thumb, like a whisper.

"Randy," I whispered as my eyes roamed his gorgeous face, stopping at the curve of those beautiful and slightly parted lips. "_Randy_…"

A perfect moment.

It was a loud knocking on the door that made us both flinch, destroying that perfect moment in less than three seconds and I wanted to go out there and punch that very person through the next wall. Instead I groaned regretfully and pressed even closer to Randy, who dropped a kiss on top of my head. A call followed the knock and it wasn't Stephen's voice. The voice called to open the door because they wanted to check me over.

"Don't want to..." I muttered, nuzzling against Randy's neck.

Another kiss was placed on my hair and Randy's arms around me loosened, his hands moving to my shoulders to push me back a bit until I looked up to him. His hands trailed up to my face, framing it and with an equally regretful sigh he leaned in to place a kiss on my lips.

"Keep in mind where we stopped, Johnny," he murmured against my lips, his voice more of a forbidden sexy breathing than the well-known rumble.

He pulled back as the knocking returned. His eyes were sparkling in joy and I couldn't remember the last time I had seen that emotion written in them. Fucking beautiful…

"I don't want to open that fucking door," I whined quietly, trying to pull him back against me but he stopped me with a soft laugh.

"We have to. Let them check you over and grab a shower. I'm waiting for you outside John-John," he said as he ran his hands down my arms to my hands, which were now resting on his waist again, settling on them… holding them there. A gesture that had almost become a habit by now.

The voice outside became more and more insistent and I knew there was no other way than to open the door, no matter how much I wanted to just sit here and hold him… or more. Just as if he read my thoughts, he rolled his hips again, a wicked smile plastered to his face and I could do nothing than to close my eyes and groan a quiet _bastard_.

He stood up then, holding out a hand and I took it, blinking a few times as my eyes fell on our joined hands. Then I had to smile. Take my hand. A thing we should have done long ago, metaphorically spoken. Randy pulled me up and against him, stealing a last kiss before we stepped apart and I opened the door, earning an incredulous stare from the trainer who was standing there with his hand raised to knock again as he saw Randy behind me. The incredulous stare didn't last all too long and what followed was a verbal ass-kick for not opening the door.

While I listened to the man, Randy walked past us and as he did so, I felt his fingers brush mine lightly in a small and tender touch, leaving a tingle of happiness and anticipation spreading throughout my chest.

Spending the next hour with being checked by the trainer, no matter how often I assured that I was fine, and having a visit to the shower, I eventually was able to grab my stuff and head out, looking out for Randy. He wasn't waiting in the hallway, nor did I find him in the cafeteria, so I figured he was waiting somewhere around the parking lot. Cool air hit me as I left the building, my eyes searching frantically for him. A hand on my shoulder startled me out of my search for him and I was turned around and came face to face with… Randy.

The joy was still sparkling in his eyes and maybe I was only imagining it, but he looked ten years younger than he had tonight in the ring. He smiled softly, tilting his head a bit to the side as his eyes roamed my face, stopping at my lips for a second, before his eyes locked with mine. The hand on my shoulder moved down over my chest to my belly and he buried his fingers in my shirt, tugging me slightly closer and I settled my hand on his. My heart jumped happily although I knew I couldn't steal a kiss from him, here, where anyone could see us.

"Get in my car and let's get home," I murmured, smiling back at him and, though reluctantly, he let go of the fabric.

As we made our way to my car, he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me against his side and my fingers itched to wrap my arm around his waist, but it would have blown the cover of an innocent gesture of friendship. And so I decided to be content with being as close to him as it was possible at the moment. Because this was just… or rather finally… the beginning.


	17. When the soul is on fire

Okay. That's it. The very last chapter. Really, really the last one to this.

… cries bitterly …

Well, I'm not gonna write a lot at this point. Let me just add that I had to change the rating to T for this chap, so smut ahead ;D

There is an A/N at the end, so see you later, guys!

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Our ride home was quiet but it was a quietness that was filled with contentment and happiness. Randy had his eyes closed, looking like he was sleeping but the smile on his face told me that he was not. After a few minutes his hand found its way to my knee, claiming the place there and his thumb started to brush lightly back and forth and every time we had to wait at a stoplight, I rested my hand on his, getting a pleased hum in responds from him.

And although I knew now that this was real… it still felt like a dream…

Neither of us spoke a word until we stepped through the front door of the house. I walked in behind him and just as the door clicked shut, he turned around to me and my bag was being pulled out of my fingers. Randy threw our bags carelessly aside, his eyes flicking to my lips for a second, before they fixed on mine.

"Now? Where did we stop? Tell me, Johnny…" Randy said, his voice smooth like a good Whiskey and it made me shudder.

Slowly he stepped up close until our chests touched and then he rested his forehead against mine, his hands traveling down my sides, stopping then to stay on my waist. Holding onto his upper arms I watched in fascination as his sharp grey eyes darkened and the joy in them was replaced with something heavy… raw… and it made my skin crawl, made my heart pound fast and hard against my chest. His hands on my waist tightened their hold, fingers burying in the fabric of my shirt, as he started to push me backwards until my back hit the door.

"Tell me, Johnny," he repeated and I felt his lips ghost over mine.

The smoothness morphed to a husky rumble, so damn sexy that it sent jolts of heat straight between my legs and just as I wanted to say something, Randy slid a leg between mine, pinning me hard against the door. A whimper fell from my lips and I was aware enough to feel slight embarrassment about it, even more because there was a low chuckling against my neck that made me shudder again in responds.

"Bastard," I groaned, but the groan became whimper again as one of his hands dropped to my hip to pull me closer against his thigh. "Randy, please…"

"Anything," he whispered.

With amazement I noticed desperation tingeing his voice. My arms moved up to wrap around his neck and I heard a quiet _trust me_, before he closed the gap and kissed me, pulling me tight against his thigh.

The kiss was searing, demanding and spine-tingling and Randy's addictive taste fueled a hot burning need for _more_ deep inside me. Marveling how achingly good and right his lips felt on my own, my tongue started a battle for dominance with his.

Breaking the kiss, I nipped at his bottom lip and licked and kissed my way down, stopping at the edge of his jaw for a lazy moment and continued down, seeking the pulse point of his neck, sucking at it. His hot breath fanned over the side of my face as he rewarded me a hiss, rolling his hips against mine and with this movement he pressed his leg even more against me, drawing a moan from me as I bucked against the solidity of his thigh.

"_Randy_…" I said and the word was something between a rasp and moan and it was the only coherent thing I managed to bring over my lips.

Again he rolled his hips and I pushed against him, whimpering against his neck as our movements slowly became a steady thrusting, drawing moans and breathless groans from both of us, introducing a maddening rhythm into the movements of our bodies. Using my arms around his neck to pull me closer to him, to pull me up, I claimed his mouth again and with a low growl he grabbed one of my legs, wrapping it around his waist, grinding hard into me the same moment. Waves hot heat rolled through me and with a helpless whimper I let my head fall back against the door, closing my eyes. God damn, I was rock-hard and I felt a matching hardness press into my hip.

And while I clung to him and to the last remains of my self-control, Randy turned his head into my neck and I felt his teeth grazing my skin, before he did something seriously sinful to the spot right under my jaw, causing a full-body shudder to wrack through me.

"_I want you_," I heard him growl and a faint voice in my head did its best to remind me that neither Randy nor I had done _that_ before with another man.

I couldn't have cared less this very moment because this was Randy, mind-blowing hot and pure sex and he wanted me…

"God, yes…" I moaned but that moan became a disappointed hiss when his thigh between legs vanished.

Randy grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me into a possessive kiss, biting down my lips and he thrust his tongue deep into my mouth… stealing my breath and with a hissed _bed_ his other hand grabbed my ass and he pulled me away from the door. And as we made our way towards my bedroom, somehow without stumbling or running into things, the kiss never broke.

Only when the back of my legs hit the bed, the kiss ended and it left us panting, staring at each other in wonder. But only for a short moment. His eyes never leaving mine Randy started to take off his clothes, very slow… so damn, agonizing slowly. I watched him mesmerized, watched the muscles under the tanned skin move, ripple and then he straightened up again, showing me my prize.

My eyes roamed over his body, stopping at his fully erected cock, jutting from between his legs, before they found back to his eyes. I couldn't remember that I had ever before felt something akin to what I felt now. Love and pure arousal, anticipation and the raw need to feel him and the way he stood there, breathing fast, his eyes almost black from full blown pupils with a slight tremble running through him… his lips slightly parted… and his tempting body exposed in all his glory… I _wanted_ him to take me and fuck me senseless. I groaned weakly as my eyes slipped close, because the mere thought of it made me even harder and my cock was straining against my shorts, begging for attention.

Then I heard him move and he whispered: "Keep your eyes closed, Johnny…"

I obeyed and swallowed hard, waiting what he would do. Randy was close. I could feel him, feel the warmth radiating from him and I had to muster all what was left of my willpower and self-control not to reach out and touch him, kiss him.

Randy's hands settled on my hips and slipped under my shirt without hesitation. I gasped and a light tremble ran through me as his nails scraped gently over my skin, before I felt my shirt being pushed up as he peeled me out of it. I heard it fall to the floor. His hands started to roam over my chest, my abs, mapping, caressing, leaving goose-bumps in their wake and his hands moved further down. Shortly after my short slipped down my legs.

"Step out," he ordered quietly and again I obeyed, losing my socks and sneakers, too, all the while keeping my eyes shut.

I heard him move again and his hands continued to roam to my lower back, his fingers slipping under the waistband of my boxers and a blink later my boxers followed the rest of my clothes, revealing my need for him.

"You're so god damn beautiful, Johnny…" he breathed and his hands settled on my ass, pulling me flush against him and he shifted his hips so very slightly, not a full-out grind, only an adjustment… rubbing lightly against me.

And then he kissed me again, firmly covering my lips with his own, stroking my bottom lip softly with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, teasing it, nibbling and biting down delicately only to soothe it again. With a sigh I opened up for him and with a hum he sealed our lips together, letting his tongue slip forward to meet mine. I felt a sweet ache in my chest grow and reached out to wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him even closer. Breaking the kiss for a blink only to dive back I sucked gently on Randy's tongue and curled my own around it and my reward was a moan from him. Not done yet, I released his tongue and thrust fiercely into waiting mouth in long, slow, provocative strokes.

Eventually his lips vanished and my answer was a small and disappointed whine that turned into a startled gasp as Randy gave me a rough push, sending me backwards onto the bed. In a blink he was above me, his weight pinning me to the mattress and I pushed against him in responds, creating a fine friction as our cocks rubbed against each other and it made us moan in unison. My arms came up to his lower back to slide down hungrily to his ass, my fingers digging into the firm flesh there.

"How do you want me?" I hissed as he leaned in and nipped at my neck.

"I want you on your hands and knees, Johnny…" he growled and rolled his hips, sending jolts of heat through my body, drawing a helpless _yeah_ from me.

He pulled back a bit and added quietly: "Got something for… you know, lube?"

Trying to catch some breath I closed my eyes and replied as quietly and a bit shakily: "Hand lotion, in the night table."

Randy's weight vanished and I heard a drawer being opened, while I tried not to think about that we both knew the theory of sex with another man, but the practice was something completely different. Between all those good feelings there was nervousness, anxiety, rearing its head. And maybe it was a good thing that I didn't have much time to think about it.

I felt the mattress dip and without a warning Randy gave me a hard push, making me roll over to lie face-down. My eyes flew open as an arm snaked around my waist, pulling me up and I found myself on my hands and knees. Then he leaned forward, leaning on my back while keeping his arm wrapped around my waist. His groin pushed against my backside and his hard-on nestled between my butt cheeks. I heard him breathe close to my ear, making me shudder as his tongue darted out to lick the shell of my ear.

"I'm gonna make you cry my name," he promised, his voice rough, bordering on an animalistic growl.

Pushing up and back a bit to gain even more skin contact, I breathed: "Prove it…"

He growled lowly in response, rolling his hips slightly and then he drew back, letting his hands roam my back, his nails scraping lightly over my skin and down to my ass, giving it a nice squeeze. Then his touch vanished and a second later I heard the hand lotion being opened, before I felt a slick hand close around my dick and my breath hitched in surprise.

With slow strokes he began to move his hand up and down, rolling his hips and his ministrations on my cock and the sensation of his dick rubbing against my backside made me moan and whimper for him and I pushed back against him, making him groan.

After a few more moments the pressure against my backside lessened and vanished and a finger pushed between my butt cheeks, very gently, making me tense involuntary and I exhaled sharply, trying to concentrate on his hand on my dick that kept moving in a steady rhythm. I couldn't hold back the hiss of pain though, as Randy's finger pushed into my body. A kiss was dropped on my lower back and I heard soothing words being whispered as his finger started to move in and out slowly, his hand on my dick matching the thrusts of his finger. After a moment the pain lessened and the tension faded from me, giving way to small moans and gasps. I felt him add a second finger and then a third and I started to push back against him, this new sensation overwhelming me, pulling me into a haze of lust and the next thing I became aware of was a feeling of loss as drew his fingers back but only for a short moment, before something bigger pressed against my entrance.

A long, low groan of pain and pleasure escaped my lips as he pushed in, agonizingly slow and my groan laced into his strangled moan, pushing further until he was buried to the hilt. We stayed like this for long seconds, panting and his free hand gripped my hips, holding me tight against his groin.

"Oh God, Johnny… you're so tight… feels so good…" he breathed, keeping still and I realized that he wanted to give me the time to adjust to him, but I pushed back against him, ignoring the burning in my ass because, God, I wanted him to fuck me until I blacked out.

"Move," I hissed impatiently.

And he did, starting with lazy thrusts. Shifting slightly, Randy changed the angle of his thrusts and suddenly a jolt ripped through me, as he hit my sweet spot. I gasped out loud and froze, breathing fast and shallow and I felt Randy freeze, too.

"Oh God…" I groaned then at the tingling that lingered.

Randy whispered apologies for causing me pain and I almost laughed at that because my whole body screamed for _more_.

"God, Randy, do that again," I beg instead, pushing back against him. "_Please_…"

After a heartbeat of hesitation he followed my plea and he pulled out, coming back with a forceful thrust… hitting home again, ripping another groan from my throat and I begged for more, begged him to go faster and harder and his thrusts slowly sped up, morphing into fast and hard pounding. Faintly I registered that his hand on my dick vanished but I didn't care because with every single time he hit my sweet spot, causing waves of hot pleasure to roll through me. With both hands on my hips he pulled me back against him, his grip hard enough to leave marks and I arched back to meet him.

Our moans and whimpers, sharp gasps and groans filled the room and there was searing heat where Randy's hands trailed over my body, where his lips touched me, heat that made me writhe, and then his hand wrapped around my cock again, pumping me in unison with his thrusts, fueling the raging fire between my legs that started to spread, crawling up my spine, curling into my belly and my lungs.

A full-body shudder wracked through me and I faintly registered as Randy's movements became erratic. Just then his hold on my hips tightened again and his fingers dug deep in my flesh, creating a delicious pain.

"Now, Johnny. Come for me," I heard him breathe and I pushed back, meeting him as he drove into me with a mighty thrust that hit my sweet spot with almost enough force to make me black out.

The heat in my belly uncurled, flooding my body with liquid fire as I came hard, so hard that it made me see stars, and his name on my lips was as a hoarse cry and Randy was right there with me, holding me tightly against him as his hips bucked a few more times while he came, moaning my name, shooting his cum deep into me…

Keeping his arm wrapped around my waist, Randy leaned forward, burying his face against my shoulder, breathing a lazy kiss on it. The room fell silent while we stayed like that, trembling, panting… riding the waves out. Randy's weight on my back was heavy but good, the feeling of his body molded against mine added a spine-tingling sensation to the aftermath but after long moments I felt fade what was left of my strength and my arms and legs gave way. Sinking down onto the bed, I pulled Randy with me and I winced as he slipped out. There was a whispered _sorry_ but I hushed him, turning over to him.

I felt Randy huddle against me close, closer and when the surf actually settled enough I noticed that my eyes were closed. Blinking slowly, I opened them again, peering down at him through half closed eyes, being greeted by Randy's satiated and dazed eyes and open vulnerability in his face, something he showed so rarely. And as I watched him, he looked up at me, giving me a happy and contented little smile before closing his eyes and nestling his face against my chest.

"I love you, John-John," Randy whispered, his voice heavy with contented exhaustion. "So much…"

Closing my arms around him to hold him as close as possible, I whispered back: "And I love you…"

I breathed a tender kiss to his temple before giving in to the peaceful darkness that tugged at me and faintly I felt Randy relax in my arms, felt his breathing become slow and steady while we dwelled in the afterglow and warmed by the still smoldering embers of the fire we had ignited.

Here we lay and Randy was mine because somehow it had always been an us. This was real, _we_ were real. This was perfection. It was… _us_.

Those thoughts engulfed me and I held onto them, holding them close to my heart while I slipped down into the calm and peaceful abyss of sleep…

x

Warmth… contentment… softness… seeping through black oblivion into the abyss of sleep I was floating in… tugging at consciousness… and it called me awake and the more I drifted towards those sensations, the more I wanted to _feel_. There was inviting warmth pressed all along my front side and a tingle running up and down my back, a soothing touch. My arm was wrapped around that warmth and with a content sigh I pulled it closer, nestling my face against it. Then I heard a low hum and the warmth shifted.

"Don't you dare move an inch, Orton," I grumbled, but mirth was tingeing my voice.

He stilled immediately.

"Jeez, didn't know you're the cuddly type," he chuckled softly as I tried to scoot even closer, resting my head on his shoulder.

I smiled against his skin and breathed a kiss onto it.

"Says the one who was all afterglow-cuddly," I replied quietly.

He stopped the caress on my back long enough to pinch me, stating: "I. Am. Not. Cuddly."

My chuckled _yeah, sure, Randal_ earned me another pinch. There was a content quietness following for a few minutes and the last night replayed in my mind. All of it seemed like a dream and maybe I would have believed it to be one if it wouldn't have been for the solid body against me, telling me that this was real. Oh… and there was this dull pain in my ass that reminded me, too, that this was a very real thing. I took a deep breath, inhaling Randy's scent…

Randy… the last night he showed me sides of him I've never seen before… well, not very surprising since Sam… his partner in life… might have been the only other person who had been graced with seeing him like that until now… The clingy and cuddly Randy and… good God… the raw and primal Randy who turned me into a submissive, boneless mass, begging him to take me and fuck me senseless. The memory of this Randy made the hair on my arms stand on end and I felt something coil up in my belly, felt heat rush between my legs and I shuddered.

Pulling me closer Randy murmured: "You cold?"

"No," I laughed softly. "I just try to get in my head that I had sex with a man. Or better, that I let a man put his dick up my ass."

I heard Randy hiss and a blink later I found myself lying on my back and Randy's weight pinned me to the mattress. He gazed at me with an arched eyebrow, his eyes sparkling in mirth and joy as he nestled between my legs and rolled his hips tentatively.

"So I'm just… _a man_, John?" he asked as he leaned down to place kisses on my collarbone.

With a happy sigh I let him have his way, entangling our legs and murmured: "No… No, you're _the man_…"

There was an approving sound, before he moved up to nibble the skin right under my ear and I wrapped my arms around him.

"Hell yes, I am," he spoke lowly and that low rumble vibrated through me, making me shudder again. "And it was so fucking hot to hear you cry my name…"

My southern regions slowly became interested and there was something hard poking into my hip. But right now I wasn't up for another round, since my poor backside needed some time to regenerate.

Almost rueful I said: "No sex now, babe, as much as I liked what we did, but my ass hurts. Gimme some time, okay?"

"Okay. For now," he agreed reluctantly and maybe a bit disappointed. "We need much more practice, you know? Then you'll get used to it."

One of my hands moved down to his butt and I gave him a nice slap for his brazen suggestion, making him wince and I had to smile. Muttering something about domestic violence he buried his face in the crook of my neck. For about three seconds, before he lifted his head, squinting his eyes at me, lips pursed.

"Did you just call me _babe_, Cena?"

"Yup."

I grinned at him and simply closed my eyes, letting him squint at me as long as he wanted to, but shortly after I felt him shrug his shoulders and then his face resumed its place in the crook of my neck.

"I love you, you know?" I murmured, tightening my hold on him.

"You better do, because you're stuck with me for the rest of your life, Johnny."

For the rest of my live… I had no words to describe how much I wanted that. Spend the rest of my life with him, until we were old, wrinkly and grey, wearing surgical stockings and strange clothes. My mind was evolving around so many things though. Alanna for example. How would she cope with the fact that her dad wouldn't come home? Sure, Randy would try to see her as often as possible, but still… And we had only one ally. Stephen. But it would be hard to keep it a secret anyway. There was always someone who overheard or saw _something_. Revealing the truth could cost us _everything_.

I wiped those thoughts away for now, focusing back on Randy, on his strong heartbeat I felt as he lay on me. Silence descended on us like a blanket. We stayed like this, wrapped around each other for I didn't know how long, floating in sweet contentment, pure peace and sparkling joy…

At some point, much much later, we eventually manage to crawl out of the bed and the clingy Randy was back. He clung to me on our way to the bathroom and while we brushed our teeth he stood behind me, an arm wrapped around my waist and his forehead resting on my shoulder. What should have been a quick shower turned into a make out session with much body contact, including a little rubbing and grinding against each other, touches on every reachable spot and sweet kisses. No complaints about that, I _loved_ this Randy. It was just so new that I still couldn't believe it. But, hell, I wanted more and I wanted it every damn day for every damn possible second, just as I wanted the cuddly Randy and… God help me, the primal Randy…

When we finally made it down to the kitchen, my stomach was growling like a grumpy old dog. As we prepared the breakfast, kisses and touches were stolen and every now and then one of us would stop to just wrap his arms around the other and hold him tight for a few seconds. It felt like the newly found love it was and at the same time it felt like it had always been this way.

At some point he muttered something about orange juice and left the room. The door to the utility room was being opened. After a second I wondered what he wanted in there, because the last time I had been in there it was empty except for newspaper, wall paint and bad memories. So I followed him and when I stepped through the door, I found a completely painted room with all the things in it that belonged there. The moment I came in, Randy straightened up, looking at me and I guess he had a faint idea what was going on in my head.

"I did this yesterday and the day before while you… were away," he said quietly, giving me a lopsided and sad smile. "Distraction, you know? It didn't work though…"

I nodded, biting back a sudden pang of guilt, and sauntered over to him, slowly, looking at him with an arched eyebrow while I did so and the lopsided and sad smile was replaced by a wary expression on his face. Squinting his eyes Randy cocked his head a bit, turning completely towards me and when I stood right in front of him, I took the bottle of orange juice out of his hand and let it slip back into the bottle case.

"John?" he asked quietly, warningly, yet there was slight amusement audibly his voice.

My responds to his question was a hand on his chest and one on his neck as I pushed him gently backwards. He didn't give any resistance, but with a small smile ghosting around his mouth he tilted his head a little and tried to steal a kiss, which I successfully avoided by turning my face away and I received a cute pout for doing so.

Just then the back of Randy's thighs connected with the washer, drawing a tiny gasp of surprise from him, but then I saw the small smile grow to a knowing one. He pushed himself up to sit on the washer and I followed, coming to stand between his legs.

"You owe me, Orton," I murmured and my hands dropped to his waist to pull him flush against me.

Just like he'd done back at that night, he placed his hands on my shoulders and hooked his feet behind my legs.

His eyes flicked from my eyes to my lips and back as he replied: "Is that so, Cena?"

I nodded slowly and he arched an eyebrow. For a moment we just stayed like this, gazing at each other. Back then it had been the first time I almost kissed him and ever since there was a small part of my heart that wanted to turn back time to that moment and just do it, kiss him, regardless of possible consequences. And now… I knew it was different yet it almost felt like we were back at that very moment.

I leaned in and whispered: "What if I kissed you?"

Playing along, Randy whispered back without budging an inch: "What if I kicked you ass?"

"I'd say it would be damn worth it," I breathed and deciding that it was time to claim what my heart was craving, I closed the gap.

Closing his eyes he opened up for me, his tongue meeting mine half-way, dueling for dominance. But this was _my_ moment and maybe he felt it… because after a few heartbeats he let me take the lead, giving into me. His arms slipped around my neck and humming I wrapped mine around his waist, holding him close. The kiss became slow, sweet and loving… bestowing me a tingle in my belly and making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Somewhere in between I tasted apologies and remorse, tugging at my heart and I tried my best to kiss their taste away.

Again it was a knock at the front door that brought us back to the here and now and killed a perfect moment, just like yesterday in my locker room. Reluctantly we broke the kiss, but Randy's arms stayed wrapped around my neck and he dropped his head onto my shoulder, muttering a curse. I sighed and placed a kiss onto his hair.

"Waiting for someone?" Randy asked, the words being muffled as he turned his face into the crook of my neck.

"No," I said quietly, trying to ignore the persistent knocking that was disturbing our well-deserved peace. "But I guess I should go and see who that is…"

That said, I didn't move. Neither did Randy. Maybe we both hoped the knocking would stop and we could continue… But it was wishful thinking and eventually I wrenched myself away from him with a hissed _fuck_. Putting a finger under his chin I urged him to look at me and I breathed a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"You stay there," I murmured, smiling. "I'll be right back."

With that I left the utility room, very much unhappy so, and made a beeline to the front door, opening it but the smile on my lips died the second I saw who was waiting behind the door. Sam. Sam's face shone with self-contentment as she stared at me, a smug smile on her lips and demonstratively she crossed her arms over her chest. Wiping the surprise from my face, I answered her stare with a neutral expression. At least I hoped it looked neutral to her. Taking a look back towards the utility room where Randy waited for me, I stepped out to Sam, leaving the door ajar. Maybe I could spare him a discussion with her. She stepped back a bit and put her arms akimbo, but the expression on her face didn't change.

"Why are you here, Sam?" I asked quietly, keeping my voice as neutral as my face and the smug smile on her face grew.

"I came here to take my husband home," she answered in a what-did-you-think-tone and with a quick step she tried to round me to get into the house, but I stepped into her way. "This farce stops here and now. I'm not gonna let your friendship destroy my family. That's ridiculous!"

Letting the neutral mask fall for a second, I hissed: "Stay out of my house, Sam. And Randy's not coming with you."

Squinting her eyes, she crossed her arms again over her chest, the smoldering anger twisting her beautiful face into a grotesque mask.

"Who are you to decide that, Cena?"

There had been times when Sam and I had gotten along well but that was a long time ago and thinking back to the night I told Randy what I feel, it had been guilt towards her and Alanna and Randy that made me say and do all I did. But this very second I couldn't even feel pity for her. The only person I still felt sorry for was Alanna. And now here I stood and had to bite my tongue to contain myself from spilling the truth, no matter how much I wanted to tell her the facts. Randy and I hadn't talked about who should know about us and who not, so it was his decision to tell her… or not.

Looking her over, I simply settled for: "It's what he told me. He's not coming. Live with it."

She was about to open her mouth and probably call me a few nice names, when the door opened and Randy stepped out asking who was there. With an unhappy groan he came to stand on my left side. In a blink her face changed from unsightly to sweet and I huffed at her mendacity, side-gazing Randy. His brows were furrowed and his jaw muscles twitched, telling me that he wasn't pleased to see her. He shifted his stance a bit and his shoulder bumped slightly into mine, keeping contact as he answered my look and a brief smile crossed his face the second our eyes met. God, how I loved this man…

"Why are you here?" Randy asked her, audibly strained, as he focused his attention back on her.

Still smiling she took a step towards him and as she did so, Randy took a step back so I was more or less standing between the two of them. He still kept contact, his chest touching my back lightly and I had to hold back a smile as I realized that he did it on purpose. Sam's smile though dimmed.

"I'm here to take you home, Randy. Let's make a new start. You and me and Alanna. I know we can make it work," she explained, holding out a hand to him.

I couldn't see his face, but I saw Sam's and she didn't look very happy. Whatever she had planned out, it didn't work.

"No, Sam, no. I'm not coming back. I'm staying with John."

Although I had known his answer already, my heart jumped in joy at his words. The remnants of her smile vanished into thin air and she paled visibly, the anger on full display again.

"You can't be serious, Randy!" Sam snapped. "How can you choose a friendship _over your family_?!"

After all I wouldn't have blamed him if he'd simply said: but I do. Revealing the truth meant to risk a lot, including the custody for Alanna. But then he did something that honestly surprised me…

Not leaving his place behind my left shoulder, he wrapped his right arm around my waist, his hand gently resting on my belly, while his left hand found mine and intertwined our fingers. And then he pulled me back, holding me against his chest. My breath caught in my throat while my heart stumbled in my chest and when my eyes found his, they were shining with pure love. A smile tugged at my lips and I wanted to kiss him senseless this very moment. Instead I settled my right hand over his, holding it tight against my belly.

I heard her gasp sharply and I gazed back at Sam. She just stood there, her eyes wide open and her face a mask of horrified realization

"I'm not choosing a friendship over my family," Randy replied quietly. "I'm choosing John over you, Sam."

Her eyes narrowed as she seemed to shake the surprise off then, at least outwardly, and flaring her teeth she focused on me.

"You sick bastard…!"

But she was cut off as Randy growled: "Don't you dare!"

Her mouth snapped shut, lips pressing to a thin line.

"And don't even think about holding Alanna away from me," he added sharply. "I get to see her three days a week and every second weekend she's gonna stay overnight, starting this weekend. And now _go_!"

His arm around my waist vanished but he kept holding my hand, pulling me into the house without waiting for a reaction from Sam or taking a glance back at her and closed the door with a little more force than necessary, maybe to underline his words. A heavy sigh fell from his lips and closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and I almost expected her to knock at the door and scream or something like that, but… nothing happened. With a gentle tug I pulled him against me, holding him close and with another sigh he buried his face against my neck.

Silence fell while we stayed like that for a minute or two. Slowly my mind caught up with the full extent of what Randy had done. I moved a hand up to his nape, letting my fingertips brush over the soft skin there and he hummed in responds, nuzzling against my neck.

"What if she can't keep her mouth shut?" I asked quietly and the mere thought of what she could cause by telling the wrong people about Randy and me gave me the chills.

"No, I know her, she's not gonna spill anything. She doesn't have the guts," he murmured against my skin and I felt goose bumps flare on my arms at that small touch. "_And_ I've got the better attorneys."

Turning my face against his short hair to place a soft kiss there, I said: "Randy? Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Another hum and a sigh.

And then I felt him smile against my neck as he answered: "I'm not sure…"

Dropping another kiss onto his hair I whispered: "Well then… I love you so much that it hurts sometimes. I would do anything for you… Even give my life for you, you know?"

I winced a little when Randy bit down gently on my neck.

"Oh no, don't you dare do that," he hissed softly. "You're not allowed to leave me ever again, you hear me?"

"Sir, yes Sir," I replied smiling and he made a noise of approval.

And then his hands dropped to my ass, pulling me close while he started to nibble his way up to my jaw and then to my mouth. Running his tongue over my lower lip before he sucked it into his mouth, asking for entrance and I parted my lips, meeting him half-way. It was one of those lazy kisses I loved so much, slow and loving. One of those kisses to get lost in.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, Randy whispered against my lips: "Show me how much you love me, Johnny. I want to feel it."

It took me a second to understand what he wanted to tell me but when it sank in, I drew back, moving my hands up to cup his jaw while my eyes searched his in question.

"Are you sure, Randy? You don't need to do this…"

He nodded softly and although there was nervousness written on his face, his voice was sure as he spoke: "I'm sure, Johnny. I want to feel you."

Leaning back in he brushed his lips along mine, whispering: "_Please, let me feel you…_"

I swallowed hard as I imagined making love to him. Heat surged down to my southern regions and I felt myself grow hard and with a small whimper Randy bucked against me and I noticed his dick poking against my hip.

"Naughty boy," I whispered back against his lips, before I claimed his mouth.

Just like the night before, we made our way kissing and touching towards my bedroom without any accidents, but this time we left a trail of clothes on our way, ending up naked on my bed.

Gently I pushed Randy backwards until he was lying on his back and kneeling between his legs I let my eyes roam his gorgeous body, taking in the sight of his tanned and smooth skin, which I knew was so soft and it even seemed to shimmer slightly under the light. Eventually my eyes found his again, so bright and full of emotions, mesmerizing beautiful and he smiled almost shyly under my scrutiny.

I leaned forward, drawing my tongue across the soft skin of his throat, kissing my way down to his collarbone.

"Please take it slow, Johnny," he said quietly and the way his voice quivered told me that he was scared.

"It's okay, babe," I replied as quietly between my kisses. "I'm gonna make you feel good. Promise."

The way it had happened yesterday had been rough, raw and primal, leaving to time to think much about what was just happening and maybe it had been good that way, because there had been no time for me to be scared. But now it was different. Randy wanted this to be slow and I wanted it, too. Slow and loving. But it was giving him more than enough time _to be scared_.

And as I looked up to him, I saw him close his eyes, saw one of his hands hold onto the headboard while the other clutched the sheets. Yeah, he was _definitely_ scared…

My hands started to roam his body, leaving loving caresses all over it. His muscles twitched and tightened under my touch and goose bumps flared all over his body, while I kept kissing and licking my way down, reaching his chest. A whimper escaped his mouth as my tongue found a nipple, as I sucked and nibbled lightly at it, before I continued to move further down over his stomach, nipping and sucking at the soft skin under my lips and as my tongue delved into his belly button, he writhed a bit under me.

Eventually I reached his hips, dropping kisses on the sensitive skin just under his hipbones, making him writhe a little more and I couldn't help but smile at the small and high pitched sound he rewarded me with and that small sound went straight to my groin, making me even harder.

"Feels good, Johnny…" I heard Randy whisper, breathless but still somewhat tense.

I hummed in responds and nuzzled my face against his belly, right beside his cock that was begging for attention. And although I had no idea how to do this right, I was determined to keep my promise and make him feel good. And loved.

So I sneaked an arm under one of his legs, resting it on my shoulder, holding it there while my other hand wrapped around the swollen flesh and there was a shiver running through Randy at the touch. Looking back up to him, I brought my mouth close and licked tentatively over the head, earning a sharp gasp and another shiver. For a brief moment I closed my eyes, taking in his taste on my tongue, before I took a deep breath and took him in my mouth, starting a slow up and down that made Randy moan, low and throaty and needy while his hips bucked, pushing his cock deeper in my mouth.

Encouraged by his reaction, I released him, letting my tongue trail along the shaft to lick the base, only to search my way back up along the protruding vein. His small and sharp gasps, the moans and groans coming from him, the way he writhed under me made me lightheaded and I wanted to hear this every damn day from now on forever and I wrapped my lips around him again, giving the tip a soft swirl with my tongue, before I took all of him into my mouth, starting a steady rhythm. Randy moaned loudly, throwing his head back into the pillow while he clutched at the sheets and the headboard hard enough that his knuckles went white.

When I was sure he was lost in the sensation I reached out for the hand lotion that was lying beside the bed and poured a bit onto my fingers and as I positioned one finger at his entrance, I felt him flinch... but he gave me no sign to stop. Gently I pushed into the tight heat, felt him clench around my finger and I had to hold onto his leg to anchor me because the mere thought how it would feel to be buried in him almost made me come.

Slowly I began to move my finger in and out while I kept bobbing my head and after a moment I felt the tension fade from him and I added a second finger. Randy's chest heaved up and down as tried to catch his breath, a thin sheen of sweat covering him and the small moans were back, telling me that I was on the right way. Then Randy opened his eyes and those grey orbs were dazed as they looked down at me. Keeping his gaze, I added a third finger, gently scissoring them ever so soften as he watched me for a moment, before he let his head fall back on the pillow with a groan.

After another moment I removed my fingers carefully and slicked my cock up. There was a groan of disapproval as my lips left his cock and his eyes found mine again as I positioned myself, his leg still resting on my shoulder.

"You okay?" I asked hushed and at his whispered _yes_ I pushed forward ever so slowly into that tight heat and I couldn't help but growl deep in my throat.

I watched as those beautiful eyes screwed shut and then Randy's hands shot up to stop me and I froze. His fingers dug deep into my shoulders and when I saw the fine lines of pain on his gorgeous face I started to pull back, but he shook his head.

"Don't…" he pressed out in an almost keening way, panting fast.

I didn't move and while I searched his face the lines of pain morphed to concentration and his hands slid down to the sheets as he willed his body to relax. Carefully I leaned down, placing a soothing kiss on his slightly parted lips, a second, waiting for him to give me a sign to move. Eventually he opened his eyes again, nodding lightly.

Slowly I pushed deeper, keeping my eyes locked with his the whole time, until I was buried in him completely. I stilled again, giving him the time to adjust to the intrusion but it was so damn hard not to move because the heat, the tightness and the way Randy clenched around my cock almost made me lose it. It felt so fucking incredible…

Eventually he took a deep breath and whispered: "Move."

And I obeyed, carefully beginning to slide in and out so very slow and with every thrust I felt him take me easier. The second I saw his face relax completely and the dazed expression return to his eyes, I knew he'd left the pain behind and slowly speeding up my movements, I leaned in to claim his mouth, swallowing the moans which dropped from his lips now.

Soon the room was filled with the sound of our love-making, the moans and gasps banishing the quietness of the room and occasional groans and grunts were swallowed by sealed lips. Heat was coiling up in my belly, tugging at my insides, burning and white hot. And then Randy's body arched up, impaling himself even more on my aching cock and drawing a long and almost tortured _yeah_ from him that turned into a breathless and broken moan that ripped at the coiling heat, tearing at it, setting jolts of heat free, spreading throughout my body.

"Faster," Randy grunted then. "More… feels so good, Johnny…"

Complying with his plea I leaned closer to him until his knee almost pressed in his chest and angling my thrusts I started for a fast and hard pounding, pushing him deep into the mattress with each thrust. I whispered his name and his eyes locked with mine…

In this very moment my complete surroundings literally vanished. All I could feel was him, his solid body moving against me, under me, around me and all I could see were his eyes, dazed and burning with lust, yet open and vulnerable, so full of trust and love and the sudden sensation that overwhelmed me felt so powerful that I almost had to glance away for relief. But his eyes kept me prisoner and God help me, I wanted to drown in them.

The heat in my belly grew, flared to a dull burning that set every inch of my body on fire and faintly I noticed our movements become even more frantic, primal and Randy reached out, clutching, clawing frantically at my shoulders to anchor himself somehow, hard enough to leave marks. Panting heavily I held his leg tightly on my shoulder while I felt Randy wrap his other leg around my waist, lifting his hips and meeting every thrust. My hand found his rock hard cock and I closed my fingers around it, felt it twitch in my hand as I began to move my hand in rhythm with my thrusts, ripping a small cry from Randy's throat.

We were both so close… so damn close… and with a final thrust I felt Randy tense under me for a moment, but then he gasped and groaned, a long and low and needy sound, echoing through my mind. His back arched off the bed and he exploded in my hand as he came with my name on his lips, twitching helplessly as a full-body shudder ripped through him. Feeling him spams around my cock and coming in my hand made me follow him with a breathless moan, burying myself as deep as I could as the heat deep in me clenched and then flared, enflaming every fiber of my body to roll in a wave of unbelievable pleasure through me, making me come so hard that my vision blackened for a brief moment. With a shaky breath I let go of his leg and collapsed onto him.

I lost track of time and thus I had no idea how long we lay there, trying to catch our breaths. All I knew was the tingling sensation of the aftermath, the heat emanating from Randy, his scent, mingling with the scent of our love-making… his heartbeat, his touch as his arms slipped around me to hold me tight. I shifted a little, slipping out of him and he hissed quietly. Just as he'd done the night before, I whispered a _sorry_ and then nestled against him, resting my ear on the spot right above his heart and closed my eyes, listening to the steady and fast beating that slowly calmed down. My hands crept up to sneak under his shoulders and with a sigh I mirrored his embrace.

"This was the strangest week of my whole life," he murmured eventually, the low rumble vibrating through me and I loved it.

"Strange is an understatement, babe," I murmured back. "I'd rather call it rollercoaster, painful, frustrating and frightening."

He hummed and started to trail lazy circles on my back, the soft caress making me shudder ever so lightly.

"But with a happy ending," he added quietly. "Huh, would have been a good movie plot…"

I blinked slowly, seeking his still slightly dazed and satiated eyes. Oh, yeah… the week was over. This wasn't a movie, but looking back this week had sure as hell felt like one. And in movies, the happily ever after happens after one week at the latest, right? I gazed at him in wonder and amusement and he tilted his head a bit to the side, his brows furrowing slightly as he looked right back at me in question. A soft laugh dropped from my lips.

I stretched up to him, my hands cupping his cheeks and placed my lips on his. He responded immediately, parting his lips and his tongue met mine half-way, initiating one of those loving, worshipping and lazy, spine-tingling kind of kisses I loved so much.

This… was our happily ever after. And it had just begun…

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Phew. Now, I'm not good at smut, so I really hope this did the job and I hope you liked the end! I had to stop somewhere… ;D

And although I not always answered to every single review, please let me tell you how much I appreciated _every single one_!

I wouldn't have been able to write this story the way it is without your feedback and knowing that you liked what I wrote for you. An author is nothing without his readers.

Now… this story has made itself very comfortable in my little writer's heart. So I really have a hard time to end it. I've already been thinking about a sequel to this, a few years into the and maybe a chapter or two, or at least parts of it rewritten in Randy's POV and I've already a faint idea how I could combine the Randy-POV chaps with a sequel…

So, how about a sequel?

O yes

O no

O maybe

Tell me how much you liked this story and maybe even if you want some more ;-)

I'm happy about every single word I get to hear from you!

Thank you so very much, because you made me a very, very happy girl!

! I LOVE YOU !


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